Over The Edge
by The Delirium Threemen
Summary: Alone with only himself to rely on, Roy must get out of both the physical and mental chasm he finds himself trapped in.
1. Chapter 1

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

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><p><strong>Prologue – Chapter 1<strong>

**Well, let me tell you about the way she looked**

**The way she acted, the color of her hair**

**Her voice is soft and cool**

**Her eyes are clear and bright**

**But she's not there...**

**-The Zombies, She's Not There, 1964**

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><p>The woman with the oversized sunglasses obscuring her face drove along Mulholland Highway after spending her afternoon visitingher mother in Cornell. Her children would be spending the weekend with their grandmother who lived near one of the wineries in the area. She was in rush to get back home in anticipation of having the entire evening all to herself until her husband returned tomorrow morning. She decided to take the less congested path home. She continued down the highway until she came up to the sharp turn off onto Stunt Road and proceeded to follow its serpentine path until it met up with Saddle Peak Road. She deeply drank in the scenery and let the Santa Monica mountain breeze ruffle a few of her long chestnut locks that hung out the back of the lavender scarf she wore to keep her long hair from blowing in her face as she drove.<p>

She enjoyed the solitude as she drove along the deserted stretch of highway. She twisted the knob on the car radio to turn up the volume. strong contralto voice of Grace Slick filled the air. A smile formed on her face as she remembered the last song she sung was a children's one. She was flooded with memories of Woodstock where she had first heard this tune. Jefferson Airplane was onstage and white, sleeveless, jumpsuit-clad Grace wasn't kidding about the '_morning maniac music' _as she began pumping up the excited crowd that morning into more of a frenzy at the beginning of their second song. She sang along with the radio drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, relieving that moment in her past.

She could feel the emotional tethers that had begun to bind and slowly suffocate her over the last couple of years loosen their hold. The beat of the music and the singer's voice re-inspiried the freedom she had experienced as a young, idealistic adult. She belted out the tune at the top of her lungs with Grace Slick as best she could, her hands drummed harder on the steering wheel while her head and shoulders moved in tandem with the beat of the music. Alone, she gave into the newly released giddiness of freedom she thought she had lost years ago. She was no vocal pyrotechnician like Grace and she didn't care. Why should she? Nobody was around to inhibit her from breaking loose.

_"When the truth is found to be lies and all the joys within you dies. Don't you want somebody to love, don't you need somebody to love, wouldn't you love somebody to love, you better find somebody to love…"_

The last time she had felt this untethered freedom was at Woodstock, dancing to the music. The young man that had spent that weekend in Woodstock with had long ago vanished. At Woodstock. she never really paid attention to the lyrics or meaning of the song. Those were also the days when the lyrics of any song didn't mean much to her. It was the hypnotic vocals of the singer and how her voice wove itself perfectly with instruments onstage that day made this song captivating to her. She let Grace Slick finish the last few lines of the song as she let deeper thoughts take over her mind and body. Her ears seemed to by hearing the actual lyrics now that she was older and could comprehend their meaning. She felt her heart grow heavy. The irony was both her and her husband had become what they protested against during those days as young adults.

_Funny, _she thought,_ the man I'm married to bears no resemblance to the carefree youth I married right out of high school. When did he change? When did I change?_

She turned down the radio and continued driving…and thinking. She remembered the conversation she had with her husband yesterday morning before he had left for work. She had begged him to find a way to cut back on his hours. She accused him of using work as an escape hatch from the demands of being a husband and father, an accusation she regretted when he returned an angry and hurtful look her way. She knew he was trying to provide her and the children with as much as he could. She just wished he could see it was him they needed more of, not more money and nicer things.

She was aware that they were starting to walk that fine line in the middle of love and resentment. Her husband was confusing love with providing. She sensed he could also feel the drifting apart that had started to come between them over the last couple of years. She needed him to open his eyes to the fact that he was becoming a stranger to their children. They required time with him and craved his attention. She longed for the days where her children were younger and he took the time to play with them. These days, they all pussyfooted around the house trying to stay quiet when her husband was home because he was always tired from working long hours and traveling.

She knew the road and destination her marriage was headed for and she didn't like it. She was determined to make use of this weekend while the children were away at her mother's. She was going to do everything in her power to save her marriage and give her children their father back.

She continued driving, navigating several curves in the road successfully until she came upon another set of curves several miles further up the road. The first curve wasn't bad but, on the second she misjudged the sharpness of it. She felt the car skidding on the gravel as her left tires went onto the shoulder of the road causing a cloud of dust. The tires skimmed off the edge of the shoulder and they hung for a split second in the air before the backend of the car tilted downward towards the ravine below. She screamed as she felt the car going downwards. She stopped screaming as the car flipped onto its back flattening the roof before it began to slide down into the ravine. The echo of metal crunching and glass shattering filled the air as the car rolled over several times.

The car came to a rest against a tree which prevented it from falling completely to the bottom of the ravine. The concerto of noise that had begun its decent was slowly fading away to a low hiss of the engine and the rattling of a single hub cap on the floor of the dry creek bed at the bottom of the ravine. The hub cap stopped clattering and the car engine shushed to a silence. The ravine was quiet and seamingly peaceful once more as if it had digested the accident without leaving any tell-tale crumbs behind. A half hour later, the smallest of death's scavengers buzzed onto the scene and entered the mangled car and was followed shortly by several more companions.

On the road above the cloud of dust had long since dissipated and the view of the ravine looked undisturbed after having completely swallowed the car up. No apparent signs of an accident would be detected by the casual driver cruising along the road. They would be oblivious to the carnage that lay at the bottom of the ravine that was made invisible underneath the canopy of trees and bushes.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Want Somebody to Love – Jefferson Airplane 1967**

**No copyright infringement intended on the use of songs in this chapter. Those are the property of the respective artists.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

****Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.****

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I've been afraid of changing<strong>

**'Cause I've built my life around you**

**But time makes you bolder.**

**Children get older, I'm getting older too.**

**I'm getting older too.**

**-Fleetwood Mac, Landslide, 1975**

**Chapter 2**

Roy scanned through the first few pages of the newspaper while he nursed his cup of coffee at the kitchen table. He stopped when he came upon small article on her. An irrepressible quiver shot through his body as his skin broke out into goose bumps. He read the byline above the picture 'Mother of Two Still Missing' and stared at the name that accompanied the picture: 'Sarah Loaring.' It had been over a week since she had disappeared after dropping off her children for the weekend at her mother's in Cornell, which was the last place she was seen alive.

Last night there was an update on her case on the evening news. Roy had sat with Joanne on the couch and listened to the details on the Santa Monica woman's disappearance. Her husband had returned home from a business trip the evening after she vanished and filed a missing persons report after calling family and friends frantically searching for her.

The disappearance of Sarah Loaring had left Roy feeling disconcerted the moment he had seen her face on the news a week ago. Perhaps, it was her notable physical likeness to his wife that caused him to become preoccupied by one of his own biggest fears of losing Joanne. Joanne would be leaving soon to spend the week with her mother and it was normal for his uncertainties to surface every time she visited her mother alone. He always tended to agonize over whether or not Eunice would finally be successful in convincing Joanne that he wasn't good enough for her.

There were a few things he had noticed recently that was discomforting in his life. Little things that he wasn't sure how to interpret, such as catching Joanne reading through the jobs section in the classified ads. He had wanted to confront her, but was afraid of her answer. Did she not feel he was providing adequately for her and the children? He was torn between the impotent feeling of not being able to support the needs of his family's future and his love and passion for his job as an LA County paramedic. He was proud of being one of the first paramedics in the area, but pride didn't seem to put enough money into college funds for his children or afford a better home in a nicer neighborhood for his family.

_Yeah, the one time I had the opportunity to buy the perfect home at the perfect price and I blew it fiddlefarting around before finally putting in an offer. Maybe if I hadn't kept double checking the numbers on our household budget to make sure we could afford the mortgage payments we'd have gotten that house. If that wasn't bad enough, fate had to rub more salt into wound; the buyer was none other than my best friend Johnny. He bought it totally on impulse after getting caught up in the moment of the real estate agent's sales pitch. I suppose I can't fault him on that because I might have done the same thing if I didn't have a family to factor into all of my decisions._

_The real kick in the nuts came when he decided he really didn't want a house, and wanted to re-sell it right away. Initially, I did expect him to sell it to me for the same price he bought it for. I mean it wasn't like he had already moved his stuff out of his apartment and was living in it. After talking things through with Joanne, which was after she her tirade about Johnny buying the house from under us, she didn't feel right buying the house from him. At least not without offering an extra thousand or two on top of the original price. I mean, she was right, as usual, it was wrong of me to expect him to sell it to me without any expectation of a profit._

_Of course he offered it to me after he finally finished humming and hawing over selling it. I turned him down, he was asking a few thousand more than Jo and I could afford to pay. I was too embarrassed or I didn't have the guts to tell him the extra few thousand he wanted didn't leave us much wiggle room financially. He ended up flipping it and got a few thousand more than he would have gotten if he had sold it to me. I suppose it's rather mean on my part, but I felt a small amount of justice was doled out for his compulsiveness as I listened to him rant on and on about getting taxed on the profit he made. His crazed gibbering about the government sticking their hands in his pockets grated on me after listening to it for an entire shift. It was probably best in the end that I didn't buy the house from him. Either way it was a no-win situation, someone was sure to accuse me of taking advantage of Johnny or him of taking advantage of me._

"Hey," Joanne said softly behind him startling him out of his thoughts. "Didn't you tell me last night you weren't going to get all worked up like you usually do when I visit Mother?"

Roy stared back down at the newspaper in front of him and frowned as he thought of Joanne driving out to San Diego by herself. Eunice was getting a bunion removed tomorrow and Joanne was planning on staying the week to keep her company at the hospital and help her out the first several days at home. He really couldn't blame Eunice for wanting one of her daughters around to assist her. He just wished it was Eileen's turn this time, well honestly, he wished it was her turn all the time.

"Its…I just want you to drive safely on your way to your mother's that's all. Every time I see that missing lady's face I can't help thinking…," Roy spoke softly so their children wouldn't hear them from the living room.

"I know, and I really do feel awful for the poor woman's husband and children, but I think you're letting her slight resemblance to me spawn all these unnecessary fears," Joanne interrupted before he could finish his last sentence.

Unable to come up with the words to articulate his fears concerning her safety, Roy shrugged his shoulders and tried downplaying his concerns. "Hey, you know me; I'm always worrying about something."

Joanne wrapped her arms around him from behind and placed her chin on his shoulder. "Well, I'll have you all to myself next week and there's a certain fussbudget I plan on straightening out," she said as she gave him a kiss on his cheek.

She stood up and went over to the kitchen sink and began drying the breakfast dishes sitting in the rack. She was looking forward to them spending some time alone while the children were still at camp.

Jennifer came running into the kitchen from the living room. "It's not fair!" she proclaimed to her father as her lips formed a pout.

"What's not fair?" Roy asked as Joanne looked on in curiosity. Neither one was sure what could have set off the snit their daughter was having.

"I won't learn to print until grade one and Chris already knows how to. It's not fair that I can't write a letter to you from camp."

"Well honey, you're gonna learn how to print when you go back to school at the end of summer," Roy tried reasoning with her. Joanne had left the kitchen leaving the two of them alone.

"You just don't understand, I _NEED_ to know how to print now," Jennifer answered in an exasperated tone and stomp of her foot. Her daddy wasn't getting it.

Roy looked sternly at her. "Jennifer, you know better than to act like that."

"Sorry," she muttered, "But how will you know if I'm having a good time or not if I can't write you."

Joanne walked back into the kitchen with a sketchpad, some envelopes, and a box of crayons and set them on the kitchen table. "You can draw us pictures of all the fun things you'll be doing do at camp. How's that sound?"

Jennifer looked leery as she stared down at the sketchpad.

Roy pulled a crayon out of the box and opened the sketchpad. "I'll write our address here," he said as he started writing on the inside cover of the pad. "I'm sure one of the camp counselors will do up the envelope for you. How's that sound?"

Jennifer looked like she was warming up to the idea. "Do you think if I ask nicely, someone will help me write something to go with the picture?"

"I'm sure they will. I'm also gonna write down Grandma and Papa's address and Grandmother Johnson's. I bet they'd enjoy getting a picture letter from their only granddaughter." Roy smiled back at his daughter as he tweaked her nose.

Roy continued writing the addresses in the cover as Jennifer stood at his side. "Daddy, do you think there'll be any mad cows at camp stompin' on people's feet?" she asked.

Joanne glanced at Roy to see his reaction to her question. She knew how badly he felt about last year's family vacation to the farm that was memorable only because of all unfortunate incidents that happened. She noted how he controlled his reaction over their daughter's question.

"I doubt you'll see any cows there, but you might find rabbits there. Camp Cottontail started out as a rabbit ranch," Roy answered.

"I just hope I don't get mee-sells again like I did last year."

"I'm sure you won't get sick," Roy stated knowing a second case of measles was improbable.

"What about the itchies that Chris got?"

Joanne decided to step in. "Jennifer, how about we go pack these things away while Daddy finishes his coffee?"

She threw her husband a sympathetic look as she gathered the items on the kitchen table and shepherded their daughter into the living room. She knew how frustrated he was after spending so many hours last year searching for the perfect place for them to go on vacation only to have one calamity after another besieged them.

Chris was fidgeting impatiently on the couch anxiously awaiting their departure.

"Chris, why don't you put the sleeping bags in the back of the truck," she suggested, feeling the task would make the time go a little faster for him. "Your Dad will help load the rest of the stuff in a few minutes."

"Roy," Joanne called out to him. "Your father is going to stop by tomorrow morning to pick up Fergie while you're at work."

"Does he have the spare key?" Roy asked as he entered the living room to join his wife. Joanne nodded affirmatively. "I'll call him before I swing by after my shift to pick the dog up. I just let him out in the yard and I just topped off his food and water so he should be good until I get back this afternoon."

"Here," Joanne said as she pushed her suitcase towards her husband. "Put that in the back of the car for me, please."

Roy grunted as he picked up the suitcase. "You can sure tell the difference between a woman's suitcase and a man's – a woman's is always the heavier one." Joanne playfully prodded him in his side as he headed out the door.

Roy loaded the last of the children's belongings into the back of his pickup truck. Once the car and truck were both packed, Roy headed back into the house and let the dog back in and locked that door before heading out the front door and securing that one as well. The kids were chattering excitedly in the driveway.

"Dad, what's Mom going to do if the car breaks down on her way to Grandmother's?" Chris asked with a twist of sass attached to the word 'grandmother' whenever he referred to his maternal grandparent.

"I took it to Grandpa's garage two days ago to make sure everything was fine," Roy answered, unsuccessfully hiding the annoyance in his voice.

_That's the second time this morning I've been reminded about the 'DeSoto Family Vacation from Hell,'_ Roy thought sourly. _Just another item to add to my list of shortcomings._ He recalled the hour they spent on the side of the road waiting for the overheated radiator to cool. Then as luck would have it, the fan belt broke and he hiked almost a mile and a half in the blazing heat to the nearest gas station to get a replacement. By the time he returned to the car, Joanne and the kids were fit to be tied after simmering in the hot sun at the side of the road for two hours. The disasters that rained down on last year's vacation like the seven plagues of Egypt wasn't something Roy was ever likely to forget.

Joanne saw the apparent frustration that had slowly etched itself onto his face as both kids had innocently threw reminders at him over the mishaps during their trip to the farm last summer. Over the last several months, she had noticed Roy withdrawing from her emotionally. She had an inkling why Roy had recently stopped confiding in his best friend Johnny, but he was also shutting out her and even his parents. It didn't help matters or his disposition the constant overtime he had been working recently due to a series of brush fires and covering for others who were either sick or injured. Even her best friend Susan had expressed that her husband Deke was getting moody over all the extra shifts he was putting in.

Joanne kneeled down in front of the kids and gave them both a hug and kiss good-bye before they climbed into the truck. Roy escorted Joanne to the driver's side of her car. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him closer to her.

"You know, we have a lot of things to discuss when I get back," she said sternly looking up at him.

"I'm sorry, I haven't been very fair to you or the kids the way I've been grouching around lately," he apologized.

"It's more than you being grumpy and I think you know that. I refuse to let you keep bottling things up anymore. I love you and I won't tolerate you pushing me away anymore."

"You really feel that's what I've been doing?"

"Yes, I do. In fact, I think it's been building up over the last year. I only wish I noticed it sooner. Not just with me, but with everyone else in your life. Even your parents have noticed something's up with you."

"I don't know what to tell you Jo…"

Joanne interrupted him before he could finish. "You know, maybe when you get off work, you should go have a talk with your father when you go to pick up the dog. He's been a bit concerned that you haven't really discussed much with him in a while."

"Joanne, it's not that I don't want to talk to him. I just don't want to dump my problems onto him, especially since his heart attack."

Joanne tilted her chin up in a challenging manner. "Roy, don't use that as an excuse to avoid conversing with him. Your father had a mild heart attack; that doesn't mean he can't handle being your sounding board every once in a while. He misses you coming to him for advice or just to hash things out."

"I guess if you put it that way," Roy reluctantly agreed.

"No guessing, honey. Your mom is making sure he doesn't overdue it at work as well as following his doctor's orders. Did you know that he handed a lot of the management over to Larry Whitely?"

"Okay, I promise to go talk to Dad and clear the air between us," he said.

"That's better," she replied as gave him a quick kiss. Both of them could hear the kids' restless chatter as they waited in the truck.

"Jo, I know I'm not your mother's number one fan, but I really do hope everything goes all right with her surgery tomorrow."

"Thanks, I sorta needed to hear that. I know the two of you barely tolerate each other, but I also know you wouldn't wish anything bad to happen to her."

"I'll call you tonight see how you're making out."

"You just want to make sure I arrive there safely, Mr. Worrywart," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss.

"That too," he muttered before deepening the kiss.

Joanne broke off the kiss. "I guess we both better hit the road, huh?"

"I love you," he whispered and leaned in for one final kiss before reluctantly letting her go.

She accepted his kiss after retuning his sentiment. He opened the car door for her and closed it once she sat down and secured her seatbelt. He watched her back out of the driveway and wave at him and the children. He watched the kids wave back to their mother from the rear window of the truck cab. He climbed into the truck and started the engine.

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><p>He had barely gotten onto the 405 when the Jennifer started playing with the buttons on the radio. This sort of annoyed him a bit because he hated many of the new songs that had come out over the last few years, preferring to listen to oldies stations instead. Every once in a while he'd be in the mood for country music, but never this new disco stuff being peddled as music these days. He decided to let her pick out a station knowing that it wouldn't be long before Christopher complained about her selection.<p>

_I really don't get how anybody can think this disco crap is music. I mean that girl group doing the last song could only sing three words over-and-over-and-over again. What possible deep meaning do the words 'Fly, Robin, Fly' have? Are those the only three words those bird-brained girls know? I bet those three are really great conversationalists. Hey now, this song has educational value I think…Oh yes, NOW I finally get the 'Disco Dan' joke. Poor Dan Ferris, it's no wonder he doesn't want to fill in at our station anymore. All shift Chet kept calling him 'Disco Dan' and referring to him as the latest and the greatest the entire time he covered Marco's vacation._

_Ahhhh, relief, Chris finally changed the station to something more listenable before my eardrums started to bleed. On the bright side, I can listen to whatever I want to on the way home._

Roy turned off onto Topanga Canyon Boulevard before turning onto Saddle Peak Road opting for the more scenic route. The kids preoccupied themselves by looking out the window somewhat in awe over the opportunity to be more up close to nature's beauty rather than catching distant glimpses of it from the concrete confines of Los Angeles. He glanced down at his watch and decided there was enough time for them to check out the ridgeline at the Saddle Peak lookout point. He pulled off the road into the parking area where Saddle Peak intersected with Stunt and Schueren Roads. Roy walked over to the passenger side to help Jennifer get out of the truck and they walked over to where Chris was standing glancing at the valley below.

"What do think? Pretty spectacular view taking isn't it, kids?" Roy stood between his two children as he addressed them. "You know, we're at one of the highest points in the Santa Monica Mountains," Roy explained as they enjoyed the scenery.

He pointed out Calabasas Peak in the distance before guiding them across the road to view the ocean, pointing out Santa Monica off in the distance to his children. Several minutes later he ushered them back into the truck. It was less than half an hour when they finally arrived at Camp Cottontail. Roy helped the kids unpack their items from the back of the pickup and carried the heavier items for the kids as they headed towards the office area to sign in.

The camp director, Bob Thompson, greeted them as they entered the main office. He introduced them to an older boy who would be Chris's junior camp counselor. Chris was at the age where he was shying away from any type of public affection from his parents so Roy gave him a squeeze on the shoulder as he said good-bye to him. He watched the older boy help Chris carry his things as they headed out of the office together towards the area where the boy's bunkhouses were located.

Jennifer looked up warily at her father and Roy knew she was having last minute thoughts about being away from home for the first time in a strange place. Jennifer hid behind her father as they were introduced to her junior camp counselor. Roy knelt down so he was eye level with her.

"Hey sweetheart, you've been looking forward to going to camp all week," Roy said in a soothing tone. He slightly waved his hand in the direction of the young teenage girl named Leah who stood patiently in front of them waiting to take Jennifer to her bunkhouse. "It's not polite to keep this nice young lady here waiting."

Jennifer remained silent

"How about Daddy walks with you to the bunkhouse?" Jennifer nodded and whispered a barely audible 'okay' as Roy gathered up her things.

"I'll tag along and point out some of the activities we have planned for you," Bob said as he picked up Jennifer's sleeping bag.

Roy and Bob followed Jennifer and Leah out of the office. They walked past one of the larger buildings, which Bob pointed out as the mess hall and the building after that which was the theater and recreation building.

"When your parents come to pick you up, you and the rest of the campers will put on a show for them," Leah told Jennifer.

"Like a school play?" Jennifer asked hesitantly.

"Something like that, we'll do some fun skits and sing camping songs. Does that sound like fun?"

"Ummm, I guess so. What about the rabbits? Daddy said this was a rabbit ranch."

"Of course, we have rabbits. How about after we drop your stuff off at the bunkhouse, Leah can take you to see them," Bob said.

"Really? Can I hold one?" Jennifer asked in a soft shy voice.

"Sure, and you can help feed and water them too," Leah informed her.

"Hi, Nurse Janet," Bob called out to a slightly rotund lady with frizzy brunette hair standing on the porch of a small cabin-like structure.

"We have a registered nurse on-site at all times, just in case. For the most part, most injuries any campers suffer tend to be minor cuts and scrapes," Bob reassured Roy.

"This is Mrs. Valley, our senior camp counselor. She's in charge of our bunk house," Leah introduced Jennifer to the older woman who smiled warmly back at her before showing her to her bunk. Roy lingered a few moments for until Jennifer and Leah had put her stuff away.

"I guess it's time for Daddy to go, huh," Roy said as he bent to give his daughter a hug and a kiss.

"Promise to write me a letter Daddy?" Jennifer pouted as she unwrapped her arms from his neck.

"Promise. Cross my heart. I bet Leah will read it to you if you ask her nicely," Roy gave her another quick squeeze. "You're gonna have so much fun here. I bet you'll hardly miss me."

"How about we go see those rabbits?" Leah said offering her hand to Jennifer, who looked at her father first before accepting.

Roy and Bob Thompson watched the two girls as they exited the bunk house and head off towards the a barn-like structure with cages inside of it that had a sign in the doorway – Rabbit Pen. They lingered after the girls as Roy watched from the doorway as Jennifer become rather enchanted by the furry creatures. She looked up at her father as she cuddled a small rabbit in the crook of her arm.

"Bye Daddy," she smiled and waved, seemingly fully recovered from her last minute attack of separation anxiety.

"Thanks for the nickel tour. It looks like I'm leaving my kids in good hands," Roy said as they got back to the office.

Now that the children were dropped off at summer camp for the next two weeks, Roy would be by himself for the next week until Joanne returned from her mother's. He started his journey back home to Los Angeles opting to take the same route home avoiding the busier highways. He'd be battling them tomorrow at work as he weaved the squad in and out of traffic so he might as well enjoy a nice relaxing ride home while the opportunity presented itself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>I've looked at life from both sides now<strong>

**From win and lose and still somehow**

**It's life's illusions I recall**

**I really don't know life at all**

**-Joni Mitchell, Both Sides Now, 1967**

**Chapter 3**

Joanne turned on her left blinker as she saw the sign for Laguna Woods. Checking over her shoulder she switched over to the south lane to prepare for the 405 to merge with Interstate 5. _Roy's probably on his way home from dropping the kids off at camp,_ she mused. _I remember how upset he was when he found out his parents were paying for summer camp for the kids._

She recalled how Jim and Harriett had stopped by the house after returning from a camping trip in Malibu State Park a couple weeks ago. They had heard about Camp Cottontail from the couple next door to them at the campground they were staying at. Roy was at work when they stopped by with some brochures and a couple of applications for the kids._ I really didn't want to hurt their feelings, but it was too pricey for us to afford._

"_Don't you fret over the cost; we decided to make this an anniversary gift for the both of you. What better gift could we give you than some time alone," Jim winked at Joanne._

_I tried to protest but Jim interrupted me. "We've always respected your wishes on not spoiling the children."_

_Harriett elbowed Jim gently for blowing their pretense. "When was the last time you and Roy had a couple of weeks without the kids?"_

_They both knew the answer to that question, I suspect. Sure, we've have had a few weekends alone here and there throughout the years. I knew they were doing this more for the kids. Summer camp is usually a memorable experience for any child. It wasn't like they overindulged or spoiled the kids; they were good about not doing that. I hummed and hawed about it for a few moments. I already knew Roy's stance on the matter. If we couldn't afford it ourselves, then we shouldn't be sending our kids to camp. We could afford some of the local day camps in the area, but Camp Cottonwood was an overnight camp and one of the pricey ones too._

"_You know, the two of you could borrow our Streamline. There are plenty of campgrounds in Malibu State that are a few minutes away from the camp," Jim piped up, trying to sweeten the deal._

"_I'll be at my mother's the first week helping her out," I fessed up to them. I knew sending the kids to camp would save me a lot of time and hassle lining up babysitters or having them spend the week with Jim and Harriett. I think if I had asked them to watch the kids for the week, I didn't exactly have much of an argument for refusing their offer. Heck, I knew this was more about them wanting to do something special for their grandchildren than an 'anniversary' present for us._

_I agreed and BOY was Roy fit to be tied when I told him that his parents' anniversary present for us was sending the kids to camp. He saw through that ruse immediately and took the whole thing as an affront to his ability to financially provide for his family. We had a bit of a heated discussion on the matter. I think it all boiled down to who would take care of the kids while I was taking care of my mother. It wasn't fair to them or Mother to drag them along with me while she recovered from surgery. Even though it's minor surgery, how can I really help her out and look after two rambunctious kids at the same time? He saw the rationale in that argument, finally relented on the matter and agreed to let his parents 'indulge' the children. _

Joanne remembered what Roy had told her about filling up for gas in San Clemente because the prices tended to be cheaper outside the big cities like San Diego. She took the off ramp to South El Camino Real and pulled into a gas station there. She told the teenage attendant who showed up beside the car to fill up the tank before she got out and headed towards the vending machine near the station's entrance. She stared at it for a moment before slipping two quarters into the slot and making her selection. The machine rumbled as it dispensed the bottle. Joanne heard a pssssst sound as she removed the cap using the cap remover from the machine. The cap made a plinking noise as it fell into the repository below.

"Need the oil checked, ma'am," the young man called out to her as he looked up from washing the windshield.

"Oil's fine, it was just checked," she answered as she walked back towards the station wagon. _Darn tooting you better wash the windows at 66 cents a gallon. Oh pardon me, it's 65.9 cents. That zero point one cent makes me feel sooooo much better that I'm not actually paying a full 66 cents._

She sat down in the driver's seat and took a long, unladylike guzzle of the cold, rich-brown colored liquid. The bubbly liquid caused her to emit a bullfrog-like noise rumble in her throat as she tried to stifle the rising gas. She set the bottle between her legs as she paid the attendant. She gave the attendant an embarrassed look as she thanked him.

"Thanks ma'am, have a nice day," he said as Joanne started the car.

_Ma'am…MA'AM! I can't believe that kid called me ma'am!_ Joanne turned onto the road. _When did I become a ma'am?_ She hastily glanced at the reflection of her face in the rearview mirror. _Granted, I don't pass as a college-aged girl, but I certainly don't look old enough to be called ma'am. I KNOW I don't look thirty! I take good care of myself and my clothes aren't frumpy. _Joanne took another swig from the bottle while waiting at a red light.

She turned onto the on ramp for Interstate 5 and continued on her way towards San Diego. She couldn't remember the last time she had driven a long distance by herself. Pretty much most long distance traveling was done as a family and Roy normally drove. Unless Roy had was feeling run down or recovering from an injury from work, he tended to do most of the driving when they had to go somewhere together.

Joanne continued towards San Diego as she tossed her empty pop bottle onto the floor on the passenger side. She was sure she'd have another two, maybe three, bottles to give to Chris for returns. Chris and his friend Mickey often scoured the neighborhood park looking for empty pop bottles to collect in order to come up with some extra money. Last weekend, Joanne had taken them around to some of the parking lots behind a few of the local factories to scrounge around for empty pop bottles discarded by the workers during lunch or breaks. She calculated how much they would get back on the deposit of the empties and pay them while she would return them to the store herself.

_Funny how some of the stuff Chris and Jen do are no different than the things I did with Roy when they were children. _She fondly remembered her own pop bottle hunts with Roy and his best friend Cuddy. The three of them were saving up money to buy yo-yos. They would scour the neighborhood parking lots and nearby alleyways looking for empties. They would put the money towards yoyo wax and strings for their Duncan Satellites. They knew all the tricks like walking the dog, skin the cat, and rock the baby. Now, her son and his friend were out there collecting empties, pulling along a red Radio Flyer wagon to store them in.

_Some days you wish your biggest worries in life were about yo-yo strings. _ Joanne started to brood as she began seeing the signs for the upcoming turnoff ramps to Oceanside. She recalled an encounter with Molly Eggart at the supermarket that occurred earlier this week. She was a fireman's widow whose husband Dick was killed during a warehouse explosion a little over two years ago.

_Has it been that long since Dick died? She was so lost and could barely cope with things, or life in general, by herself that first year. Roy, Johnny, or the rest of the guys who knew and respected Dick didn't mind helping her out, but it became such a habit for Molly to call the station the moment anything went wrong. Well, it was getting to Johnny a bit because he thought maybe something should be done or at least said to Molly about it. Roy just chalked it up to 'that's Molly' making the mistake of confusing compassion for enabling.  
><em>

_Part of Molly's problem was Dick used to do everything for her. She was completely reliant on on him. Without him, she transferred her dependency from Dick to his coworkers at the station. A few times each week the station would get a frantic Molly would call the station. The guys were too afraid of hurting Molly's feelings or taking the risk of making her feel like they didn't want to be there for her._

_Molly was living my biggest fear as a fireman's wife and I suppose with me and the other wives it hit too close to home for us to say anything. It was more up close and personal with us wives. Each morning our husbands go to work could be the last time we see them. Anyone of us could have found ourselves in Molly's shoes._

_It took a real emergency with Jeanine along with a straight-forward, honest talk with Dixie after Jeanine came out of a coma to get her to start taking steps to becoming independent. One thing about Dixie, she knows how to give someone the kick in the ass they need without them ever realizing it half the time. The other half of the time she wants you to be aware of it._

_Over the course of the next year Molly kept repeating to herself "All you have to do is read the instructions." When there were no instructions, the guys at the station and we wives were more than willing to help her along. I remember several times going over to help her with things, organizing the bills, and teaching her how to shop for groceries the smart way. I'm sure she noticed my jaw hit the floor when she told me Dick did the grocery shopping. That was the kind of help that Molly really needed and none of us minded giving it to her. Now, she's holding down a full time job and managing very well for herself. I don't think Dick realized by doing everything Molly, how unprepared and vulnerable he left Molly.  
><em>

_I suppose Molly is the one of the reasons I've been thinking about getting a job myself. I hope I never know what it feels like to lose my husband and face raising our kids alone. Jennifer will be in school full-time when it starts up again at the end of the summer. Oh sure, the upkeep of running a household is hard work, but even a part-time job would be enough to suffice. It certainly would provide me with a form of financial independence and a separate identity other than just being Roy's wife. It also wouldn't be a bad idea for me to start building up my own credit rating. That's one problem Molly still faces because Dick handled all the finances and even the bank accounts and credit were all in his name. Ummm, I'm sure Roy will really hate the idea of me getting a credit card. Whenever we pay for something Roy insists on cash or check, but it would make sense to have one just for emergency reasons alone. I have to think of something to convince him of that._

Joanne had just passed the turnoff to Oceanside and knew it was another forty-five minutes before she would be pulling into her mother's driveway in San Diego. She still felt that strangeness in the house whenever she visited. It had been two years since her father had passed away from a massive heart attack. Sometimes she expected to find him sitting in his chair in the living room reading the paper whenever she walked into the house. There were times after supper where she could almost smell the acrid smoke of pipe wafting in from the screen door of the patio as she did the dishes. Her father was never allowed to smoke his pipe in the house and stepped out onto the patio shortly after supper and watched the birds jumping in and out of the birdbath while he smoked.

* * *

><p>Roy turned off Mulholland Highway and onto Stunt Road after deciding to take the more scenic route back to Los Angeles as well. He opened the driver's wing vent window to let a little fresh air into the cab without creating the cyclonic effect inside the truck that rolling down the regular window tended to create. It seemed to him over the last few years that he was spending more and more time in the mornings trying to style his hair in a vain attempt at hiding the thinning hair on the crown of his head. He gave up parting it on the side a few years ago when he noticed the part was getting closer and closer to the middle of his head. Joanne had caught him a couple of times already using a little of her hairspray to keep it in place.<p>

_She hasn't said much, but I wonder if it bugs her that I got that tonsure thing going on with my hair, _Roy scoffed at himself. _I already gained back the 10 pounds I lost during brush fire season, plus a few more. I'm sure Jo finds the whole 'Friar Tuck' look I have going on real appealing._

He had bought the truck new a few years ago and since then he was milking the mileage on the truck to get the full 5 year warranty. It had an automatic transmission for the occasions when Joanne might need to drive it. She hated driving anything with a standard transmission which included his sports car. He still used the Porsche most days to and from work and only used the truck if he required room for hauling stuff before or after work. The Porsche was economical on gas, which was a boon during the recent gas crisis over a year ago. He liked having the truck as a backup vehicle when he needed it, like today for example, Joanne needed the wagon to drive to San Diego and he needed something that could at least hold three passengers and luggage room in order to drop the kids off at camp today.

He started going through his mental check list of things he needed to do this week. _Take the dog to the vet after picking him up from his parents on Tuesday. Pick out an anniversary card for Jo to go with her present._

He had bought Jo a family ring he made especially for her and he had picked it up from the jewelers two days ago. He already had it wrapped and hidden away in his pants drawer of the dresser in the bedroom. He had thought up the design for the ring himself. It was something plain design with a hint of romance to it. He had drawn out a simple design alternating an X's with the necessary birthstones to represent O's; a green peridot for her, topaz would be him, amethyst for Christopher, and a blue sapphire for Jennifer. He thought it was kind of neat idea that the design would represent hugs and kisses.

"_Oh sure Roy, I just hope Joanne remembers the significance of tic-tac-toe. Is that way you figure you two will be doing in your golden years," _Johnny's voice echoed inside his head. A part of him wondered if his partner was just being a smartass or just trying to drive him to the madhouse. _When isn't he trying to drive me insane?_

He remembered Dixie walking in on them discussing Joanne's present in the staff lounge at Rampart. _She actually thought it was a sweet idea. It was simple and sweet was what she said about the design. I suppose she could have been diplomatically polite in order not to hurt my feelings._

_I'm gonna look like a damn hypocrite, giving her that ring. I spend almost a couple week's worth of pay on her gift after bellyaching to her about how much my parents were spending on summer camp for the kids? What if Joanne doesn't like it? I mean, I'm not even sure if Johnny got the meaning of the ring I designed._

_Geesh, sending one of the kids to summer camp cost more than what the jeweler was willing to charge for making the ring. _Roy frowned on that last thought. _Yeah, but it's our tenth anniversary next week and I should get her something special like that. In fact, she deserves something special. _

He wasn't home when his parents had returned from camping at Malibu State Park and presented Joanne with two applications and some brochures about Camp Cottonwood three weeks ago. He was livid when he found out the cost for sending both kids to two weeks of summer camp and that his parents were paying for it. He felt the heat of embarrassment start creeping up from his neck into his face as he recalled the heated exchange between him and his wife.

Roy slapped the steering wheel in frustration as he recalled the argument between him and Jo. _She was right; it was about me feeling inadequate because we couldn't pay for the kid's camp ourselves, my parents did. This year they'll have two weeks of fun and adventure thanks to Grandma and Grandpa. _A frown crossed Roy's face. _All I could manage to give them last year was a vacation full of a bunch of mishaps and misery._

_Maybe that's why Joanne's been scanning through the classifieds looking for a job. Does she feel like I don't make enough money? I know we discussed this when we first got married: she wanted to stay home with the kids until they were in school full time, then she would consider going back to work. After hearing about Jack Grimes' wife going back to work and then up and leaving him a year later, I'm not so sure I'm crazy about the idea of Jo going back to work. The way Jack tells it, everything was fine between him and his wife until she started working. He came home to an empty house after work one shift and found her stuff and the kid's stuff gone._

Roy concentration shifted over to driving as felt the truck slightly shimmy as he rounded a series of curves. He pushed back down on the gas pedal as he finished navigating around the last curve. He saw a second set of curves up ahead and heard a clink and a clunk from under the hood of the truck. He felt the weight of the engine shift and heard a thud under the hood as the truck seemed to accelerate more.

He was coming to a second set of curves and noticed the truck continued to speed up, almost as if he was flooring the gas pedal which he wasn't. His left leg was fully extended as he pressed the brake pedal all the way to the floor in a futile attempt to slow down the truck. He barely kept himself on the pavement as he made it around the first curve.

_Shit, shit, shit what's going on with the truck,_ his brain screamed a litany of _shit, shit, shit_. He took a gamble and turned the key to the off position, sending out a hasty prayer that he could coast his way through the second curve. _Shit, shit, shit, the damned steering is gone._ His left foot fumbled around trying to press down on the pedal for the emergency brake as a cloud of road dust enveloped the truck. He knew it was too late to stop in time, with the camber of the road, gravel shoulder, and no steering he was going to go off the road.

In the split second that followed, the sensation that hit him was similar to the turbulence of being on an airplane as the connection between the wheels of the truck and earth were replaced by nothingness - _emptiness_. Momentarily, he felt like an astronaut drifting weightlessly in space before his stomach lurched upward as the force of gravity abruptly pulled his body and the truck downward. The truck pounded into the uneven ground. Roy's world went pitch black as head bounced off the driver's side window. The truck continued to noisily rumble, bounce, and finally slide its way towards the bottom of the ravine.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**In 1971 over 6.7 million General Motors vehicles were recalled, one of the largest in automotive history, regarding their vehicles suddenly accelerating out of control. This was caused by the engine of the vehicle coming loose from its mounts. If the left side mount broke, the engine would rise and pull on the accelerator cable. As a vehicle gained speed that would cause the motor to move and pull on the power-brake booster hose from its mount making it harder to stop. There were no actual fatal accidents that were attributed to this defect. ****This recall is the basis of what I'm using as the problem with Roy's truck.**

**Based on the grill design of the GM pickup Roy drove on the show, it looked like a 1969-70 model ½ pickup. These vehicles were not part of the actual recall. Light trucks with V8 engines were part of the recall along with several GM car models. **

**The 'Hugs and Kisses' ring design is based on the family ring my husband gave to me on our 15****th**** anniversary.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

****WARNING!** Some potentially squeamish parts in this chapter.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>"<strong>**Well, you can always look at it this way. I mean, ah…**

**You could have gone to the Grand Canyon and stepped off the edge!"**

**-John Gage, That Time of Year, Season 6, Episode 4**

**Chapter 4**

A hammering pain radiated from the left side of Roy's head was the first sign of consciousness that fizzled through the muddled murkiness inside of his skull. He became aware of each injured spot in his body as bubbles of awareness continued to burst inside of his brain. An epicenter of screeching agony came from his left shoulder. His left forearm screamed at him, the inner arch of his left foot throbbed in displeasure, his ribs and chest felt battered from impacting with the steering wheel, but his breathing seemed fine. The main focal points of stinging pain drowned out the other twinges throughout the rest of his jostled and bruised body. A deep moan rumbled forth from his throat as he lifted his head up off the hard, polymer surface of the steering wheel. He managed to crack his eyes open and immediately closed them shut as needles of midmorning sun stabbed into them.

He could hear an offbeat ticking noise accompanied by the faint hiss of the radiator. He knew whatever happened to him was fairly recent based on those noises. He squelched down the rising bile in his throat as the acrid smell of burnt rubber filled his nostrils. It was a familiar odor he had smelled many times before at the scene of a car crash. _Funny, how the smell of scorched tires is always present, even when it's a minor fender bender._ He was relieved when he didn't detect the smell of gas in the air. He noticed the traces of a steely smell along with the rich aroma of soil and something that resembled freshly cut grass and wood.

The bittersweet, coppery taste of blood was present in his mouth. He cautiously ran his tongue across his teeth, one by one, to make sure they were all present and accounted for. He winced as his tongue detected the congealed blood that had formed a seal on the cut in his bottom lip. Intuitively, he fumbled around searching for the radio's transmitter.

"Ha'onny…Ha-aaooonny, oooo-oohhh-kay?" his voice slurred out as he coughed a couple of times from the dust that filled the air around him.

There was no answer from the other side of the vehicle. Roy mumbled out _dammit_ when his hand didn't find the radio. He forced one eye open and looked downward, avoiding the bright sun shining through the windshield. Instead of seeing the red interior of the squad, he saw blue and realized he was in his own truck. Then it dawned on him, he was driving and the kids were with him.

"CHRIS! JEN!" his voice filled with a parent's panicked urgency.

He slowly turned his head towards the passenger side of the cab and saw it was empty. His eyes darted to the passenger door which was still closed. _THE KIDS! WHERE ARE MY KIDS! I was taking them to camp._ He frantically looked at the two undone seatbelts on the bench seat. The blanket he used to cover the seat was bunched up on the passenger side floor. He forced himself to sit up as he continued scanning for signs of his kids. A long thin object caught his eye and he stared at it for a moment, recognizing it as the pen he kept on under the visor. A memory managed to gurgle forth from the brumes of his jumbled thoughts.

"_Promise to write me a letter Daddy?" Jennifer pouted as she unwrapped her arms from his neck._

"_Promise. Cross my heart. I bet Leah will read it to you if you ask her nicely," Roy gave her another quick squeeze. "You're gonna have so much fun here. I bet you'll hardly miss me."_

Roy let his head slump back against the steering wheel in relief. He had already dropped the kids off at camp, they were safe. The initial terror over his children's safety dissipated along with the temporary desensitization to his various injuries. His wounded body parts began shrieking out their discomfort. _Anytime now, someone will come and get me out of this,_ he thought as a dark haze started to cloud the edges of his vision. The pungent smell of burnt rubber began to make his stomach roil. He concentrated on breathing out of his mouth to control the threat of a gastric eruption.

He knew he should try and stay awake until help arrived, but he couldn't fight the tide of sable-colored smogginess that hungrily swallowing the remaining light and carrying him away back to that place where there was no tortuous sensations running through his body.

* * *

><p>Eunice Johnson sat in the front living room as her daughter struggled through the front entrance with the largest of the three suitcases she had brought with her. Joanne noticed that her smaller bag was missing. She knew she had brought it in with her; she could only surmise that her mother had taken it to her room.<p>

"Mother, you shouldn't be waiting on me," Joanne admonished with a stern look thrown in for good measure.

Eunice glared back at her daughter and let out a sniff. "You can save that for after my surgery, my dear."

"Do you have your pre-op instructions? I'd like to go over them with you before we head to the hospital," Joanne inquired. This task was one thing Roy reminded her to do, make sure her mother followed those instructions properly.

"We can go through that after you unpack," Eunice answered abruptly. She knew it was her daughter's husband who was behind her daughter's inquiry.

Joanne returned a thin-lined smile to her mother as she lugged her heavy suitcase to her room. It wasn't lost on her that her mother had removed her family portrait from the faux mantel. She wondered if it was wishful thinking on her part that her mother had seemed to cut back on the digs and insults she made about her husband. _Even Roy jokes about how you always managed to place an object in front of the picture just to block his face, now you're not even going to bother to put our family portrait out on display. Well I suppose I can try not sending her one this year._ Joanne fumed as she entered her room.

Eunice noted that Joanne noticed her family portrait missing from its usual spot. She had caught her stiffening back and the hurt look that flashed across her face. She quickly waddled behind her daughter. "I thought it would be a nice touch if I moved your family portrait to the nightstand during your stay here," Eunice said from the doorway.

Joanne looked over at the nightstand and genuinely smiled at her mother. There was no strategically placed vase, card, or other decorative ornament obscuring her husband. _Well, you're full of surprises. I guess I jumped to conclusions this time. Maybe it's not wishful thinking on my part, but I've been here for almost fifteen minutes and you haven't insulted Roy once._ "Thanks Mom, I really appreciate it," Joanne said sincerely.

"I'll be in the living room. When you're done unpacking, we'll go over my pre-op instructions," Eunice said, as she retreated from the doorway and shuffled her way to the living room.

Joanne was a bit stunned at the more subdued attitude in her mother's behavior and stared at the doorway after her mother before she started to unpack. _I know I'm not imagining it; she really has backed off on Roy since Dad died. When Dad was alive, she'd have already made a snide remark or two about Roy before I crossed the threshold of the front door. So far she hasn't said one word against him, in fact I can't recall the last time when she's said something I'd consider harsh against him._

She unpacked one suitcase while pondering the subtle changes she had noticed in her mother over the last two years. She seemed less pushy and intrusive and even Roy had commented during her last visit that a lot of the 'bite' in her comments was gone. _Either that or he's becoming immune to them_, she thought as she unpacked a few of her clothes from the largest suitcase. She had brought enough outfits to last the entire week just in case she didn't have time to launder them while taking care of her mother. Once she unpacked those, she closed the suitcase and stored it under the bed before heading off to the living room to join her mother.

A squeaky-farty sound came from the plastic covered couch as Joanne sat down on. Her mother sat across from her in the plastic coated sofa chair, apparently taking the time to spread out an afghan over it. They had a few hours before Joanne had to take her mother to the hospital to be admitted.

"Do you have a list of any medications you're on?" Joanne inquired going through the list of instructions her mother was given.

"Yes, I'm on some medications for high blood pressure," Eunice replied hesitantly. She never really discussed these things with either daughter much.

"Ohhhh," Joanne drawled out. "How long have you had high blood pressure?" Joanne asked realizing she wasn't all that knowledgeable about her mother's welfare.

"Almost five years," Eunice admitted.

Joanne made a mental note to herself to become more aware of her mother's health status. She actually felt ashamed at not knowing about her mother having high blood pressure for the last several years. She knew her father left her mother financially comfortable, but Joanne realized that without her father around that she and her sister needed to be more diligent in keeping abreast of their mother's medical needs, be they small or large. _I know your disapproval on my choices in life have put a wedge between us, but that's a piss-poor excuse for my not keeping tabs on your well-being since Daddy died._

She continued going through the checklist of items the orthopedic doctor had given her mother. After going through her mother's suitcase and satisfied that everything she'd need was packed, she prepared a light lunch for them. Eunice didn't have to be admitted to the hospital until later this afternoon, so there would be some time for Joanne to compile a list of items she would need for the week.

* * *

><p>Joanne finished washing the lunch dishes and sat down at the kitchen table to prepare a grocery list. She had intended to hit the supermarket after her mother was settled into her hospital room. She planned on picking up anything that needed refrigeration later tomorrow afternoon. She wanted to prepare enough meals for her mother and freeze enough of them to last her at least two weeks. All Eunice would have to do is heat the meals in the oven. Eileen would be around to check in on their mother daily after Joanne had returned home at the end of the week.<p>

Eunice stared at the picture of her husband Norman on the nearby end table while her daughter puttered around in the kitchen. _If only I had listened to you while you were alive. I was too busy trying to control everyone's life. What do I have to show for it? An empty house, grandchildren that fear me, and two daughters that tolerate me. All I accomplished was driving you to an early grave and alienating Joanne. She's only here out of duty, not because she wants to be._

"Mom, I'm going to put your suitcase in my wagon." Joanne's voice startled Eunice from her thoughts. "I think it would be a good idea for me to bring your purse home tonight."

Eunice was puzzled by this request. "I always keep my purse with me."

"Roy's mentioned there's been several incidents of theft at Rampart where things like purses and money have been stolen from patient's rooms."

Eunice snorted in disgust over the thought of some thief rummaging through her purse. "Very well, Joanne. I suppose there's no practical reason for me to have it there with me."

* * *

><p>The refuge of blackness gradually turned into white noise and Roy could feel the searing fire in his shoulder as he became more cognizant. The pounding inside his head was loud and unmerciful. He was certain that the pestilence of suburbia, the talentless drummer of a garage band, had taken up residence in there. He turned towards the passenger side of the cab before he opened his eyes. He had not forgotten his earlier encounter with the sun's spearing rays gouging his eyes. Glittering dust motes danced on the sunbeams shining through the front windshield. There was something mesmerizing about the shimmering particles as he ruminated to a time when Chris was about a year and a half year, sitting in his crib entertaining himself by waving his small hand through them and laughing as they scattered about in the rays of light shining through his bedroom window. He had stood in the doorway chuckling at his baby Zeus manipulating his own universe. His memory was interrupted when he felt a droplet of sweat trickle down the front of his face, leaving its salty tasting residue on his lips as it passed over them and moved downward to dangle off the end of his chin before dropping to the floor of the truck, leaving a crater in the dust.<p>

The air inside the truck had grown stifling and thick with heat and his shirt was sticking to his skin. He had to get out of the truck before the rising temperature within the tin can sauna broiled him alive. He reached across his body and tried the driver's side door. When he didn't hear the sound of it releasing he thought it best to move towards the passenger door, but was held back. He could feel the bulky buckle of the seat belt digging into his hip. He pushed the release button and it snapped open to free him. He slid over to the other side and tried the handle while pushing into the door with his good shoulder. He managed to open it a few inches before it stuck. He backed up on the bench and swung his right leg up, drawing it to his chest before using it to kick the door open.

The swoosh of cooler air hit Roy as he braced himself by grabbing the top of the door with his right hand while slowly planting his feet on the ground. He stood up on rubbery legs, still using the door for support. He cast his head downward as the earthy surface swam in front of his eyes and a wave of wooziness hit him. He waited a few moments for it to pass before looking around. He took a few staggering steps away from the truck before his left foot started to ache. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces about the events that occurred earlier that morning.

_Jo left for her mother's. I drove the kids to camp. I remember my promise to write to Jennifer._ He finally recalled the took the scenic route there. _Stopped at the lookout point at Saddle Peak Road with the kids. I remember now, after dropping off the kids I took the same route home._ Roy was a grateful that he was starting to recollect more from this morning with more clarity.

Roy knew he needed to take care of his dislocated shoulder and broken arm and started to look around for something, anything he could use to fashion a splint. He foraged around the nearby brush and small trees, looked around until he found a couple of sticks that were at least a half-inch in diameter. He knew it was going to hurt when he put his shoulder back in place and thought it would be best to provide a shaded area for himself. He picked up a thick twig to bite down on for when he put his shoulder back in place. He shuffled back to the open door of the truck and reached for the blanket that was balled up on the floor. He managed to drape the blanket over the open door with his good arm and after a few unsuccessful attempts he was able to wedge one end of the blanket behind the seat to create a half-assed awning for shade. He estimated it was about 20 degrees cooler on the outside of the vehicle than inside.

He reached into his front pocket and pulled out his pocket knife before climbing back into the truck to cut out all of the seat belts. He pulled the buckles to the end of each belts before cutting them off, leaving just the straps. He sat down under his makeshift canopy and began to assess his other injuries. No doubt he'd banged his head hard enough for a concussion, he thought as the throbbing in his head beat in tandem with his heart. He gently ran his right hand along his collarbone to see if it was broken. Judging by the bulge at the end of his collarbone the shoulder was definitely dislocated, but he didn't detect a break anywhere. He felt along his left forearm and was now certain near the wrist that both bones there were broken because of the grating feeling he experienced as the bones rubbed together. The arm was swollen but there was no numbness present or tingling in his fingers. His left foot was a mystery. He managed to remove his canvas shoe easily enough. Although, it was swollen and visibly bruised, he couldn't feel any broken bones. He knew it was impossible to tell something was broken or fractured without an X-ray. His ribs and chest were sore, but having had a couple of broken ribs in the past, he was fairly certain none were fractured.

He pushed one of the longer sticks against the ground and used his right side to lean into it to break a few inches off the end. He was satisfied with the length of the other stick as he measured it against his arm before setting the two sticks down beside him. He stepped on one of the seatbelt with his right foot and cut one belt in half lengthwise giving him two straps for tying the splint in place around his arm. He started to gently rub his left shoulder in an attempt loosen it up a bit. He knew with his shoulder muscles tensed up they would put up a resistance when he tried to pop the bone back in place.

He was surprised that he remembered some of the routines for relaxing the neck and shoulders that Chet had shown them a couple of years back during his health nut phase. It started with the horrible health slop he fed the rest of the crew until they all revolted against him. Chet's next obsession was exercising.

_Imagine Chet's here telling you how to do it._ _Pretend you're at the station in the bay and he's going through the mediation and relation exercises with you. _Roy conjured up the day Chet was teaching them mediation techniques from his memories. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and began to slowly lower his chin to his chest as he exhaled. He yelped loudly as his shoulder flared in agony. He held onto the air in his lungs instead of expiring it.

"_Slow, deep breaths. Remember, your body and the universe are one,"_ Chet's voice sounded in his head and so did the snickers of the rest of the crew.

He forced himself to focus on his breathing. He managed this action several times with his imaginary coach urging him on.

Concentrating on breathing through the red-hot pain, Roy inhaled and began tilting his right ear to his right shoulder as far as he could stretch it on the exhale as he cursed Chet's name. He repeated this action with his left ear and left shoulder several times.

Roy kept channeling his inner Chet while he started on doing some neck rolls. He inhaled deeply and rolled his chin down across his chest to the other side. This caused a razor sharp stabbing sensation to slice across his shoulder. Roy yelled out a string of foul words during exhalation. He was sure Joanne could hear him all the way to San Diego and half expected her to show up to stuff a bar of soap in his mouth.

Convinced his shoulders muscles were in a more receptive state for the next task at hand. Roy rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt, placed the twig into his mouth and bit down on it. Bending his left leg up and tightly grabbed his left hand with his right, he placed his hands over his kneecap. He slowly leaned back and let his arms pull on his left shoulder. Sweat gushed out of the pores of his skin and more guttural language escaped from between his clenched jaw. He was sure he was going to bite through the stick as he continued leaning back, increasing the pull on his arm and shoulder. He could feel an indescribable repulsive sensation as the bones in his left forearm became aligned. He heard a 'pop' as his shoulder slipped back into place. The stick fell from his mouth as he let out a shrieking howl that echoed throughout the ravine. His body went lax as excruciating sensations his shoulder emitted subsided quickly.

"_Remember to keep breathing Roy," _he heard Chet's voice commanding him.

_Gawd, I'm breathing like a woman in labor and Chet's my Lamaze partner,_ the mirth filled thought filled his mind as he continued to pant in whistling gasps from the torture his body just endured. _Who woulda thunk it? Chet Kelly actually taught me something useful. I guess some of the stuff he tries to foist on the rest of us from 'Power of Whatchamacallit' books he reads isn't all useless garbage._

Once the stinging soreness in his shoulder had dulled dramatically and his breathing returned to normal, he grabbed a belt strap and draped it over the top of his wrist, using his thumb to hold it in place on the underneath he managed to overlap the strap over its end to snuggly secure it in place. The continued to wrap it around his forearm like he would an ACE bandage before tucking the end in near his elbow as best he could. He knew wrapping his are first would cause less discomfort for him than having the sticks rubbing directly against his skin. Picking up the two branches, he placed them along the broken bones and used another belt strap to form an outer layer around the splint. To help keep everything securely in place, he used one of the thinner straps he had made from the one seatbelt earlier, he held one end in his mouth as he wrapped it around his arm just above the wrist a couple of times before typing it off. He repeated this with the other thin strap positioning it below the elbow.

He looked around assessing the terrain as he tried to focus on his thoughts and his best course of action. _Side of the ravine is too steep to chance trying to climb up the side, especially when I'm not feeling all that steady. _He looked at his shoes. _Canvas deck shoes with no tread won't make great climbing boots. Stay put, at least until tomorrow afternoon. By then, someone will know I'm missing._

_I probably got lucky like a drunk driver does when he gets into an accident. They're too relaxed when they get into accidents. Getting knocked out probably saved me from breaking more bones than just my arm._ He leaned back against the door, tired and drained; he dozed off to a light slumber a short time later.

* * *

><p>The temperature began dropping by late afternoon and now that the sun had set, Roy estimated it was a good fifteen to twenty degrees cooler outside. Roy glanced over at items that were strewn across the dashboard of the truck. After nodding on and off for a couple of hours after taking care of his shoulder and arm, he had gotten up and rummaged around inside of the truck. He figured that sometime tomorrow afternoon somebody would show up to rescue him, but just in case he had to another night down here, he thought it wise to at least see what tools he had on hand. Underneath the seat, he had found a pair of jumper cables, a couple of screwdrivers, and a wrench underneath the seat. The glove box contained the usual stuff like his registration, insurance papers and a couple of maps which he left in there. He did find several useful items such as a small flashlight, a stockpile of fast food napkins, and a first aid kit made from a Band-Aid tin.<p>

He stared at the homemade first aid kit and all the contents that had been stuffed inside of it: two packages of wet towels, six large and small Band-Aids, four Q-tip swabs, a small tube of antibiotic ointment, a couple of gauze pads, a small tin of aspirin, and two elastic bands. He had already used one wet towel, a large Band-Aid, and a dab of antibiotic ointment to clean and dress the gash on his head. He recollected when he and Chris, along with his Indian Guide troupe, had made these kits as part of preparing for an overnight camping trip.

Roy had asked his shift mates at the station to help save any empty tins and packages of wet towels that some of the fast food places handed out. He anticipated there would be a shortage of wet towels and possibly tins and as a troupe leader he wanted to make sure every boy would be able to make a first aid kit. He laughed as he remembered the volley of barbs that were exchanged at the station between Chet, Johnny, and himself when he told them they were making first aid kits out of the tins.

"_So Roy, I guess you're preparing for Johnny to recuperate at your place in anticipation of his next injury?" Chet said with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He knew this would get Johnny going._

"_Ha-ha," Johnny retorted as he opened and closed his mouth until he came up with a comeback. "It just so happens, I've gone almost a year without so much as a scratch," he proudly proclaimed._

"_Wrong, you nicked yourself shaving this morning," Chet pointed out before turning to Roy. "So you think twenty, twenty-five kits will be enough for Johnny to have an overnight stay."_

"_I'm not sure," Roy played along with Chet. "I'm thinking of renaming them Johnny Owie kits."_

_Johnny narrowed his eyes at Roy and let out an indignant huff. "Some best friend you are."_

"_Will you twits knock it off," Captain Stanley admonished them. "You're worse than a bunch of Romper Room rejects."_

Roy balled up the jacket he always kept inside his truck and tucked it between his head and the back of the seat. It was somewhat thin, but he supposed it was better than having nothing to rest his head on. He leaned his back against the driver's side door of the truck and huddled under the blanket with his injured arm cradled against his chest. He peered out of the cracked windshield from the inside the truck as he watched the last rays of the sun dip below the mountain peaks as the shades of purplish-red hued colors of twilight's rainbow slowly faded away. The moon would soon begin its journey to the top of the night sky. Roy judged that the temperature probably had dropped around fifteen degrees since late afternoon.

He sat in the pitch blackness and wondered if Joanne would think something was wrong when he didn't call tonight. Would she assume he had gotten called in to cover a shift at another station? He surmised that it would probably take a couple of days without hearing from him before she suspected something was wrong. After all, she would be spending the next couple of days at the hospital with her mother.

Nobody would wonder about him until he failed to show up for his shift at work tomorrow morning. _I_ _bet Fergie's the only one who is missing me now._ He suddenly realized Fergie had spent the entire day unattended. _Oh SHIT! He's been alone all this time and no doubt been forced to do his business in the house. Jo's gonna skin me alive if he ruins the carpet or anything else in the house._ A thought then dawned on him. _Dad!…Dad will know something's up when he walks into the house tomorrow morning._

* * *

><p>Joanne crawled under the covers and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was close to ten o'clock. She had spent the later part of the day getting her mother settled in at the hospital. She had lingered there for a while to keep her company. She brought some take-out food for both of them for supper when she noticed her mother was picking at her dinner tray. She couldn't fault her mother over that, both Roy and Johnny had voiced their displeasure at the quality of hospital cuisine. Knowing her mother wouldn't be allowed to eat anything after midnight, she thought the very least she could do was to get her something she would enjoy eating. She would be heading back early tomorrow morning to sit with Eunice before and after her surgery.<p>

When she returned to her mother's house for the evening, she managed to make two pans of lasagna and put them in the freezer for her mother to heat up next week. She had planned to freeze some soup and other dishes as well. Even though Eileen would be popping in during the following week, she figured it wouldn't hurt for her mother to have some homemade meals that she could easily heat up for supper once Joanne returned home to Los Angeles.

She gazed over at Roy's image in the family portrait next to the lamp. She wondered why he hadn't called. _He must have been called in to cover for someone who is sick or was injured. If it wasn't so late, I'd call his parents to double check that the Fergie was taken care of._

* * *

><p>The lonely, pleading whine of a dog could be heard faintly outside the back door of the DeSoto residence. Fergie pawed at the backdoor kitchen entrance several times in a futile effort to beckon someone to open it. He let out a low, defeated sounding whelp before the overly urgent call of nature overrode the training and obedience he was taught. For the second time that day, he lifted up his leg and relieved himself against the door. He looked dejectedly at the wetness that coated the door before treading slowly across the kitchen floor.<p>

Confused and alone, he treaded down the hallway to the main bathroom of the vacant house. He used his nose to try and lift up the lid. After several attempts he managed to get his head underneath the lid and put his front paws on the rim of the toilet before sticking his head in the bowl and lapping up the water inside. When he was finished he peered down the hallway anticipating a scolding from Joanne. The tawny-colored Golden-Irish mixed breed looked dejectedly down the empty hallway. It wasn't normal for him to be alone for so long a period of time without someone to let him outside and fill his food and water bowls. He walked into the master bedroom and climbed up onto the bed. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but he missed the presence of his family. He could smell the scents of both his masters in this place. He curled up on the bed and stared longingly at the doorway for several moments, his dark brown eyes filled with sadness as he let out a low whimper.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**A homemade first aid kit probably should include a couple of razor blades, matches/lighter, and a suture kit, but I felt those items would be inappropriate for kits created by children. My Girl Guide troupe made similar kits before our camping trip to a local island in the area. We were a little older than Chris in this story and one wooden match was part of the kit, but no razors. She also had us use round cylinder tins to cook eggs on. Happy to report that every now and then, I run into my former Girl Guide Leader when I'm shopping in town. **

**Any medical content was researched to the best of my ability as thoroughly as possible, along with some input from those with more medical knowledge than myself. I'm not in the medical profession and I'm not claiming everything is 100% accurate.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>Walk me out in the morning dew, my honey<strong>

**Walk me out in the morning dew today**

**Can't walk you out in the morning dew, my honey**

**I can't walk you out in the morning dew today**

**-Bonnie Dobson, Morning Dew, 1962**

**Chapter 5**

Roy awoke to the sound of a ferocious growl. Several times during the night his sleep was interrupted by the beast's bellowing roar. He half-expected to see the angry, yellowish-glow from the eyes of a prowling mountain lion or bobcat staring at him through the windshield. The animal that had awakened him was named hunger and it let out another ravenous snarl. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling his body together a little more tightly. He longed to be in his own bed with the soft, warm, sweet-scented body of his wife tucked in snuggly against his_. Instead of whispering sweet nothings, I'd probably be placing my breakfast order in your ear,_ he mused while slapping at a little blood sucking insect on his face. _The mosquitos are the only ones enjoying a feast this morning._

Going back to sleep was futile and he reluctantly peeled open his eyes and uncoiled his body so he was sitting straight up which re-activated the pounding in his head for flare up a bit. The muscles in his body nagged at him after stiffening up during the night. _Joanne…Here's another fine mess I've gotten myself into. It's not fair to you and the kids, each time I take a step forward, somethin' happens and it's another ten steps backwards. Now the truck's totaled and it doesn't matter if it was my fault or not. Sure, the insurance company will cover it along with jacking up our rates which is another expense we can't afford. All I want is to provide a decent life for my family, is that too much to ask out of life?_

He stared at the condensation on the windshield. He slid over to the passenger side and lifted his right hand up to wipe away the moisture, but stopped and stared for a moment. How many times had Joanne and he reminded Chris and Jen not to draw shapes in the fog on the window? He took his index finger and traced out a "J" in the wetness, then placing the finger inside of his mouth he sucked off the wetness. It did little to pacify the dryness inside of his mouth. He added a smaller "C" and "J" on each side before drawing a heart around the initials of his wife and children. He contemplated over licking the windows; at least, that might dampen the desert inside of his mouth.

"I might as well go suck water off the grass," he grumbled sarcastically

He reflected on that comment until an idea sprung into his mind. _ That's it! The morning dew!_ Roy's survival training from his days as a combat medic kicked in. He emptied the contents of the first aid kit on the dash. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. He pushed hard against the door until it opened. He stepped out into the cottony whiteness of the morning fog. Goose bumps immediately rose on his bare skin as the cool air hit him. He made his way to the nearest grassy patch, knelt down on his knees and used his shirt to soak up the dew from grass. Once the shirt was sopping wet, he twisted and squeezed the water out of it into the empty Band-Aid tin. That task proved to be a little tough when he was limited to using mostly his right hand. He examined the ounce or so of greyish-colored water he had collected. Bringing the container to his lips, he took a small sip of the dirt and sweat flavored liquid before tossing the rest out. He sopped up more dew and rang it out again a second time. The water collected this time around was a little less grey. _Beggars can't be choosers_, he muttered to himself as he drank down the mouthful of water.

He continued his task of collecting water. Each time he rang out his shirt, the water became a bit clearer. The sun was just rising above the peaks of the mountains giving the morning fog a slight mauve tint to it. Roy knew as the sun continued to rise and the fog lifted, he wouldn't have another chance at finding water until tomorrow morning and he hoped before the sun set today that he was out of this ravine. His thirst somewhat sated, he worked his way around the area of the truck. He had stopped drinking each mouthful of water as he collected it and concentrated on filling the small tin. It wouldn't be much water for the day, but it would be better than nothing. It was a matter of time before the sun would dry the grass, shrubs, and other plants. Roy continued to use his shirt to sop up water, drinking from the small tin and replacing it with what he could ring out of his shirt.

* * *

><p>Joanne awoke to the shrill bell of the alarm clock. Groaning she rolled over, reached out her hand and slapped it into silence. The sickening, sinking, churning feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had begun to feel last night seemed to have intensified overnight. She sometimes would get a sensation of dread or uncertainty whenever Roy didn't call her from work. She had gotten used to a hearing from him any time between supper and bedtime on the evenings when he was on shift. The times when he couldn't call were normally due to a bad fire or accident that kept the station tied up for several hours. These feelings tended to cease the second she knew he was alright. She credited it more to anxiety over her mother's surgery this morning over her normal worries of being a fireman's wife.<p>

She still felt groggy and tired as she slipped from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She had tossed, turned, and plumped up her pillows several times last night before finally falling into a restless slumber. She attributed that to not having something warm in the bed beside her, be it her husband or Fergie when Roy working. After a quick shower Joanne, put on some fresh clothes and did her hair and make-up. On her way out the door, she grabbed the morning paper from the front porch and carried it with her to the car. She planned to grab some breakfast at the hospital cafeteria during her mother's surgery. _Maybe this portending feeling will lift once Mother is in the recovery room or back into her regular room._

* * *

><p>Johnny rushed into the station locker room with a batch of clean uniforms on hangers and dry cleaning bags. He had just stripped the bags from his clean uniforms and hung them in his locker when Chet Kelly came into the station. He knew it was going to be a good day when his locker wasn't booby-trapped with an early morning water bomb.<p>

On the days where the Phantom ran late, usually the first dig of the day was Chet's to volley.

"Hey Gage, you're early. You wet the bed or something?"

"Ha-ha, remind me to laugh when you actually say something funny."

"It's not too often you beat me in. Wet sheets would cause anybody to get out of bed and to work before roll call," Chet smirked. The things he loved most about John Gage were his gullibility and naiveté – the very qualities that made him the perfect pigeon.

He glared back at Chet. "For Pete's sake, you still harping on the two times I made it just in time for roll call last month."

"Don't you mean just in time for latrine duty." Chet returned a cheesy smile towards his coworker before pulling a white tee-shirt over his head.

Johnny quickly changed into his uniform and headed off to the kitchen for a cup of coffee with Chet following behind him a few minutes later. Johnny was already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him before Chet slid in between him and Marco. The paramedics from C-Shift were still lingering around listening to Johnny talk about his days off.

"Man! It sure is hard to come back to work after two days of sun, beach, and bikinis," Johnny bragged.

Charlie Dwyer rolled his eyes at his partner Dom Barberi. "I'm sure it was."

"So…uh…Gage did you…ah…did you leave DeSoto buried in the sand back at Stan's beach house?"

"Huh? Roy? Roy wasn't with me yesterday."

Dom crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "Well, we'd really like to go home 'cause this shift was a ball buster."

Johnny glanced around the kitchen and for the first time noticed that Roy wasn't there. "Huh…That's funny. He's usually here before I am."

"Yeah, he's usually here waiting for you," Marco piped up. "The only time he's ever been late is when he's pulling a shift at another station and tied up with a morning run."

"Kids make it hard to sleep in," Mike added raising his eyebrows towards Johnny and Chet.

Captain Stanley poked his head into the kitchen. "Anybody see DeSoto this morning? I've can't put off roll call any longer."

He was answered with a few shrugging shoulders and a "Nope, no one's seen him yet."

"Think one of you guys can hang around until he gets here?" Captain Stanley asked the two C-shift paramedics.

Dom let out a big sigh. "I will Cap. Charlie covered last time."

"Thanks Dom, I greatly appreciate it."

After roll call and the shift assignments had been handed out, the crew went about their various duties. Captain Stanley had tried calling Roy's house, but there was no answer. It was half an hour into the shift when he watched from the doorway of his office as Johnny and Dom finished inventorying the squad.

"Nobody seems to be home at Roy's house." He let his breath out in exasperation. "Dom, I really appreciate you staying."

"No problem, Cap."

"When and if DeSoto decides to show up, I want to see him in my office, PRONTO!" Captain Stanley shook his head as he ducked back into his office.

"Any idea what Roy's plans were for his days off?" Chet asked from the other side of the squad.

"No…not really. I know Jo's at her mother's place for the week," Johnny answered, feeling a little guilty because he was so caught up in spending a couple of days at his friend's beach house that he'd only half-listened to Roy's plans while they were talking in the locker room at the end of their last shift. Captain Stanley had already asked him that question after roll call.

Chet scoffed in feigned disgust. "Shame on you Gage, you can't even keep tabs on your best friend."

Johnny felt the hairs bristle on the back of his neck as he fell into Chet's trap. "Just because we're partners and best friends doesn't mean we fill each other in on everything," Johnny answered defensively and then muttered, "It's not like we're attached at the hip outside of work."

"Doncha think if Roy slept in, he would have called by now? We know he's not at home. Maybe he got a flat or something," Marco suggested, trying to cut Chet off at the pass.

"Yeah well, he better get here soon and have a good reason for being late. Cap's kinda pissed as it is. Let's face it NONE of us want to deal with a Captain who has a bug up his butt," Chet added.

* * *

><p>"Man that kid got lucky. I don't think my heart will ever stop jumping into my throat each time we get a call for a child getting hit by a car," Johnny said as he backed the squad into the bay after they returned from their run.<p>

"I think the poor kid was more scared than anything. At least it was his bike that was totaled this time," Dom answered as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Johnny let out a relieved sigh. "Good thing the bike got the worst of it."

"He's lucky that the worst injury was a fractured wrist. It looks like the car missed him and he might have fractured his wrist as the bike was yanked from his hand."

"Yeah, the lady at the scene said he was pushing the bike in front of him when he was crossing the street. He coulda tried to break his fall and fractured his wrist that way too."

Johnny turned off the engine and both men exited the squad. "I wonder if my wayward partner has finally shown up."

"I hope so, I'm more than ready to go home."

Hank Stanley stepped out of his office and into the bay area to meet the paramedics. "Ummm, guys, Roy still hasn't shown up. He's rarely, if ever, been late and it's unlike him to not call if he can't make it in. Headquarters confirmed that he wasn't called in to cover anybody's shift yesterday."

Johnny and Dom exchanged a worried look between themselves as they sat down on the bumper of the squad. They sensed that their Captain was angry, but at the same time he was starting to become concerned.

"You mentioned Joanne being away this week, so I called his parents' house and according to his mother, he should be here. Other than dropping the kids off at camp yesterday morning, she wasn't aware of him having plans to go elsewhere. Anyway, his mother promised to call back if she hears anything." Captain Stanley's lips formed a thin line. He hoped he didn't cause Roy's mother any unnecessary distress. "Bellingham will be here within the hour to relive you, Dom. Thanks for sticking around."

Dom glanced over at Johnny, seeing the uneasiness etch its way into his face. "I'll swing by Roy's place after Bob gets here and see if everything's okay there."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Johnny glumly replied.

"You think something's happened to Roy? He wouldn't blow off work just for the heck of it," Chet said, as he appeared from the other side of the squad.

Both paramedics turned towards him. "Chet, why don't you go play in traffic instead of eavesdropping on other people's conversations?" Annoyance clearly dripped from Johnny's voice.

"Cool it man! You think you're the only one bothered about Roy sloughing off work." Chet stared back.

"I'm sure there's a logical reason why he's not here. Most likely, he hasn't been able to get to a phone, or he's stuck somewhere where one isn't available," Mike Stoker said as he came up beside the two paramedics.

"Yeah, well I hope you're right, Mike," Marco added as he stood beside Chet on the other side of the squad.

"Me too." Captain Stanley sighed heavily from the rear of the squad. "I even called Captain Hookrader at home to make sure that Roy never called in sick or to say he was going to be late."

"I already told Johnny I'd run by Roy's place as soon as Bob arrives to relive me," Dom mentioned to the rest of the guys.

Captain Stanley let the air whistle out between his teeth. "That probably won't be necessary. Roy's mother mentioned something about his dad going over to his place to pick up the dog."

"I'll swing by if his mother hasn't called the station back by the time Bellingham gets here," Dom offered.

"Okay guys, we still have a job to do whether Roy's here or not. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough what's going on with him. In the meantime, we need to get back to work," Captain Stanley ordered half-heartedly.

The little congregation broke up as each man went back to doing his assigned chore. Johnny looked at Dom and shook his head.

"I know you're worried about why Roy isn't here. At least, working with Bellingham won't be so bad under the circumstances," Dom said to Johnny. "Look at the bright side, Bob may be a slob, but he's easy to work with."

Johnny gave Dom a half-smile. "Well Dom, knowing Roy, wherever he is, I bet he's wishing I end up partnered with Thompson, Brice, Wheeler, ohh…I know he's who he's really wishing on me right now…Wilcox!"

"No doubt," Dom agreed, as both men gave into a half-hearted chuckle.

They would often kid each other on who would be replacement whenever one or the other went on vacation_. I alternate between Brice and Wilcox for Roy. The best way to drive a dependable easy going guy like Roy nuts is to stick him with someone inflexible and anal. Naturally, if I want Roy to really appreciate having me as a partner, then I'll go with Wilcox. You always pick Wilcox, because you think he's the only person in the world that would drive me bat-shit crazy._ _Pally, where the hell are you?_

* * *

><p>Jim opened the door to his son's house and stepped inside. He could detect the smell of waste from where he stood in the entrance way. He cautiously made his way past the living room towards the kitchen. He could hear the steps of dog treading slowly down the carpeted hallway. He eyeballed the tawny-colored dog with the pleading eyes and head hung low.<p>

"Fergie," Jim admonished the dog sternly, "Did you do what I think you did?"

The dog lowered his eyes and sauntered over to Jim before letting out a small whimper. Jim shooed him into the kitchen where the odor was much stronger. Jim stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. The garbage pail was turned over and it was pretty apparent by the way it was strewn about that the dog had been scrounging for something to eat. Near the back door he spotted the dog's empty food and water dishes.

"Shit 'n shinola…I'm sorry Fergie, I bet I screwed up and was supposed to pick you up yesterday," he said as he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair. "Well boy, you don't happen to know where Jo-Jo keeps her rubber gloves?"

Fergie's ear's perked up at the mention of the familiar name.

Jim made his way to the back door and noticed the scratches and source of the offensive odor. "Come on, I'll let you outside and get you some food and water."

"Geeeeeze Looouise," Jim muttered after setting out a fresh bowl of water and food for the dog outside on the patio. He looked under the kitchen sink for a pail and cleaner; luckily for him Joanne kept the rubber gloves inside the bucket. Donning the gloves he grabbed a fresh garbage bag and set out to pick up the trash from the kitchen floor. _I'm turning into a real, old fuddy-duddy. The kids depended on me to help them with the dog and I managed to screw that up. Poor dog also suffered because of me. First my 'ticker' starts giving me problems, now my mind is goin' on me. I can't believe I mixed up the day I was supposed pick up the dog._

Jim's self-beratement was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. "Hello DeSoto residence."

"Hi honey, no…no…Roy's not here."

"Huh…That's strange. I was thinking I might have made a mistake and was supposed get Fergie yesterday."

"Well, yes that's how I understood things. Roy was going to be dropping off the kids yesterday morning."

"Honey, from the looks of things around here, I don't think Roy was here yesterday."

"Let's just say there's plenty of evidence that points to Fergie being left alone yesterday."

"Harriett…hon, calm down. I know this isn't like him… "

"Let's first find out if Roy dropped off the kids at camp before we start thinking the worst. Okay, you call the camp."

"No point in calling Jo right now. She'll be at the hospital with her mother for most of the day."

"Maybe he got stranded on the way home."

"Yes, you would think he had enough common sense to call us to come and get him."

"Okay, I'll wait for you to call me back."

"Yes dear, I'll call you immediately if I hear from Roy or he shows up here."

"I've got some cleaning up around here to do."

"Love you too. Bye dear."

Jim hung up the phone. He was now puzzled, confused, and very concerned over the whereabouts of his son and grandchildren. He continued cleaning up the mess by the backdoor as he anxiously waited for his wife to call back. After washing the backdoor down and the kitchen floor, he tossed the soiled floor mat outside and grabbing the garden hose he began to wash it down. He was debating if he should toss it in the trash and buy a new one. The idea of Roy missing work gnawed at him; he knew his son and this wasn't typical behavior on his part. The more he thought about it, the more he pondered on the thought that Roy might be in some type of trouble.

* * *

><p>Dom noticed the old but well-taken care of Woodie wagon parked in driveway. He knew Roy drove either his blue Chevy pickup or his sports car so he assumed that this might be his wife's vehicle. He could hear the sound of the hose from the backyard and made his way up the side of the house to the backyard gate.<p>

"Hey DeSoto! You forget you had to work today?" Dom yelled through the wooden fence. He waited until he heard the rattle of the latch on the gate. He was greeted by middle-aged gentleman whom he guessed was Roy's father.

"Ummm…Hi, my name is Dom Barberi. This is the DeSoto residence?" Dom asked.

Jim held his breath and slowly released it as he answered, "Yes."

"I work out of the same station as Roy, different shift. Any idea where Roy is?" he asked.

"No…no. I've been wondering where he is myself," Jim answered slowly. "I'm Roy's father."

Dom gave the man a friendly smile now that he knew this was no burglar or worse standing in front of him. "I promised the guys at the station I'd stop by Roy's place to check around. They're all a bit troubled that he didn't show up for work this morning, especially Johnny."

"Jim Findlay," Jim extended a hand out to Dom and retracted it quickly, realizing he was sporting one of Joanne's rubber gloves. "Uh…sorry, I was in the middle of cleaning up a mess."

"Everything alright, sir?" Dom asked. The man in front of him was beginning to appear agitated and pale. He had remembered hearing something around a year ago about Roy's father having a heart attack.

"Harriett should have called back by now. Oh God…please…the kids…Roy…" Jim opened his mouth to say more, but the words failed to come out.

Dom saw the panic in the older man's eyes and ushered him into the house, to the living room, and onto the couch. He went back into to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water for Jim. "Here, drink this slowly."

Jim drank slowly before handing the glass back to Dom. "I'm sorry…I kinda let myself get worked up there. I've been waiting for my wife to call back." Jim paused for an instant and continued. "She's calling to see if Roy dropped the kids off at summer camp yesterday. I guess when I was cleaning …I didn't realize that it's been over twenty minutes and she hasn't called back."

"How about I wait with you until she does call back," Dom offered. "I know the hospital is very reluctant to give out information on patients over the phone. It could be the camp might have policies on that too. Maybe that's why it taking so long for your wife to call back."

"You think so?" Jim asked. "I suppose that makes some sense. I'm sure Harriett and I are listed as Emergency contacts for the kids in case Roy or Joanne can't be reached."

"So, you mentioned you were cleaning up before I arrived. Can you tell me what type of mess? Maybe that might shed some light on what's going on with Roy." Dom's curiosity was piqued.

"It's the dog that made the mess. He's pretty well trained and wouldn't go in the house unless he had no choice…like he was alone all day."

Dom hoped Roy's mother called back soon. It was bad enough Roy was nowhere to be found, but he didn't want to cause Johnny even more concern if the kids could also be missing along with him. Ten minutes never felt more like an eternity to both men as they waited in awkward silence together until finally the phone rang. Jim sprang up from the coach and practically ran into the kitchen to answer it.

"Honey, what's up? Are the kids alright?" Jim said without issuing a proper 'Hello' to his wife.

Dom stood nearby and watched the relief settled into Jim's features.

"Thank goodness the kids are safe."

"That sounds like Jenny. So there's no doubt Roy dropped them off."

"Hang on a second Harriett." Jim covered the end of the phone with his hand. "She wants to know about calling the police."

"The first thing the police are going to ask is if you called the area hospitals," Dom suggested. "Have your wife come over here and we'll get started on those calls."

Jim put the phone back up to his mouth. "Listen Harriett, one of the fellas Roy works with is here. He thinks you should come on over and he's gonna help us out making phone calls to the hospitals."

"Now honey, we don't know if something's bad happened. We'll call around first before we call the police in."

"Okay dear, drive carefully and I'll see you in a bit."

Dom guided Jim back into the living room where he found out the general area Roy was in yesterday. Grabbing a map of LA County from his car, he circled Agora Hills, Hidden Hills, and Calabasas near the children's summer camp and wrote them down on a separate piece of paper. He traced out some possible paths Roy could have taken to the camp. He continued writing down towns and other areas from the map along those routes. He headed into the kitchen to make a few phone calls. The first call was to the station to let Captain Stanley know nobody had seen or heard from Roy since yesterday.

"If I find out more I'll let you know, Cap. You can decide what you should or shouldn't say to Johnny."

"Yeah, I guess you guys will be busy keeping Johnny preoccupied." Dom knew the best place for Johnny was at the station; his duty right now was to L.A. County.

"They're holding up pretty good under the circumstances."

"I'm going to give Dixie a call at Rampart. They probably have a listing of all the medical facilities we should check in with."

"I know Deke Collins is off duty. I'll give him a call and see if he can help out calling some of the numbers on the list."

"Okay Cap, I'll keep you posted."

Dom hung up and called Rampart Emergency. Dixie was already aware that Roy hadn't shown up for his shift this morning from when Johnny and he had delivered the boy with the broken wrist that morning. She told Dom she was sure she could call in a favor with medical records to get couple of copies of a listing of all the medical facilities from 'here to San Francisco' printed up within the hour. The next person he called was Deke who agreed to pick up the lists from Dixie before heading over to the Roy's house and meeting up with Dom.

Dom joined Harriett and Jim in the living room where they were going through Joanne's address book. Harriett began making phone calls to several of Roy and Joanne's friends while Jim and Dom went around to some of the neighbors to make inquiries.

* * *

><p>Roy hung up his damp shirt from the side mirror of open door of the truck to dry off before stretching out his back and legs. The early morning sun warmed his fair skin. He didn't want to put his shirt back on, especially if he was going to use it to collect water again tomorrow morning. He could always use his jacket for protection from the sun's rays. For now he'd best set up the makeshift awning from his blanket again to provide himself with some shade. The last thing he wanted to deal with, on top of everything else, was roasting in the hot sun. He had made up his mind that the best thing to do for today was to stay put. He figured it would be close to noon before someone would get an inkling that something had happened to him.<p>

_Definitely by now Cap is probably wondering why I'm not at work. Well, Johnny would eventually get worried once he got over his initial irritation of being partnered with…whoever…let's see, Brice drives everybody up the wall. Wilcox is just as high strung as he is…hmmmm what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall watching those two together for a day. Thompson is on the lazy side, I suppose I wouldn't wish him on anybody, including my best friend. Wheeler and his ego might make the squad feel a little cramped…he, he, he… I can just see him getting under Johnny's skin. WHY his eyes might permanently stay rolled inside the back of his head. The Animal, well actually other than being a bit of slob, Bellingham's pretty easy going…Naw, I want somebody that would make Johnny really, really miss me. Wilcox! That's who I want Johnny partnered with today._

The amusing little game he was playing over partnering his partner with the most unsuitable partner soon wore thin and he began to think of more serious things such as what if he was still here tomorrow morning. He got up and walked around the truck to survey the area. He knew there were several hiking trails in the Santa Monica Mountains, but the only one he was familiar with was near the Saddle Peak lookout point. He needed to determine if he should attempt to climb the steep slope of the ravine or follow the dry out creek bed until he found a trail.

He found a dried out thick branch to use as a walking stick, to keep the weight off his foot as much as possible while walking. He wasn't anticipating going a great length, but he thought it might be prudent to inspect the landscape, just in case. He headed down to the dry creek bed and followed its path. He wanted to explore what was past the bend in the ravine, hoping there was a better spot that would be more suitable to climb.

He hadn't gotten far when he spotted something reflecting the sunlight in the distance. Roy leaned on the stick in order to take all the weight off his foot. _I guess trying to walk my way out of here might not be an option. _He finally made it to the object; a hubcap. He bent down to pick it up. He glanced around the area before spotting the remains of a car wrapped around a tree. He hobbled his way to the car, ignoring the steadily increasing pain in his foot. He saw the sun-faded length of lavender colored cloth billowing out of the wreckage from what was once the driver's side of the car. The indescribable putrid smell in the air was unmistakable; he had come across the death's stench all too often during his tour of Vietnam.

Roy felt a chill run through his body. He knew he had just discovered the fate of Sarah Loaring, the woman who vanished over a week ago.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Indigenous Australians sometimes drained dew as a means for obtaining water. At times they moped up as much as a liter an hour using rags or grass tuffs to absorb the dew.**

**Mentioned in my previous stories, Jim is actually Roy's stepfather, hence the different last name (Findlay).**


	6. Chapter 6

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/****Mark VII Productions****. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

*****ALERT Squeamish content ALERT*****

* * *

><p>"<strong>What is the greatest obligation that we have?" - Kwai Chang Caine<strong>

"**To live, Grasshopper. To Live!" – Master Po**

**Kung Fu (1972-1975)**

**Chapter 6**

Roy moved away from the wreckage far enough until the smell was tolerable. He didn't need to figure out the make or model of the mangled car. The design of the hubcap he held in his hand and the misty green color was enough to tell him that this was the vehicle of Sarah Loaring. Bits and pieces of television news updates on the case flashed into his thoughts.

_Twenty-eight-year old mother of two, Sarah Loaring was last seen driving a light green, four-door 1972 Plymouth Valiant, California license 769 GOX…Nobody has seen or heard from her since Friday afternoon on her way home from Cornell…Foul play has not been ruled out as a possible factor in her disappearance._

Images of her face from the newscasts and papers floated inside of his mind. _White female, 5' 4", 110-115 lbs., slender build, medium-brown hair, blue eyes and fair complexion…Last seen wearing a light beige, long-sleeved blouse, blue jeans and clogs…._

He turned his back on the mangled car and slowly began to head back to his own crash site. He still held onto hubcap that he had picked up from the dried creek bed cradling it against his body with his broken arm. He knew he should have checked the car on the off chance there were items of use to him, but he felt it would have been a form of desecration. The elements had violated her enough he thought as he began to walk back to his crash site.

The pain was beginning to spread to his baby toe and the one beside it and each step he took made it worse as he walked with a pronounced hobbling gait. _I guess trying to walk my way out of here might not be an option. She's been down here over a week and I'm the only person who knows where she is._ _ They hadn't even sent search copters out to look for her._

Roy's foot was throbbing intensely as he dropped the hubcap on the ground beside the truck. He sat down and leaned against the open door. He needed to clear his head and think; panicking was the worst thing he could do in his current situation. Reality began to sink deeply into him as he realized that he was unequivocally on his own. _I'm alive for now, but I won't be for long if I sit here waiting to be found._

He knew the fastest way out would be to climb up the side of the steep ravine and get to the road. It wasn't going to be an easy task, considering he had a broken arm and a bad foot. He could increase his chances of being successful tomorrow by getting some nutrients into his system. Survival skills had been a part of his basic training before being sent to Vietnam. He wasn't the only veteran who relied on them to make it out of that hellhole alive. He had learned how to test a plant to make sure it was edible and that insects were an inexhaustible source of protein.

He would need whatever fuel he could get into his body today if he wanted to try to climb up the side of the ravine tomorrow. Testing an unknown plant for edibility could take a day or more. Thankfully, he was familiar with much of the plant life in the canyon areas. Anything that had an almond smell probably contained hydrogen cyanide. He remembered the darker the color of the berries, the better the chances they were fit for consumption. Most blue, black, or purple berries were safe to eat and clustered berries were edible while reds were iffy. Plants with three leaves he had nicknamed the trinity of evil after Chris had come in contact with poison ivy during lasts year's trip to the farm.

Roy's general knowledge of vegetation increased tremendously while taking care of a patient's house plants while she was in the hospital. He still had the creeping wisteria plant Mrs. Johnson had given to him for taking care of her plants_. I even went to the trouble of studying plant pathology to make sure I took care of her plants properly._ _That led me to wanting to put my new found expertise to a practical use so I decided to start my own garden._ _Joanne didn't mind when I planted herbs among her flowers, but she was ready to call 'war' when I replaced one of her flower beds with a small vegetable garden. Funny, how she now prefers the vegetables from the garden over the store-bought ones._

Roy took a deep breath and began to peruse the nearby foliage. Some of the nearby greenery was safe to eat and some of it would help keep him hydrated. There were a few manzanita bushes around as he crawled over to a patch purslane that was sprawled out across the ground nearby. He picked one reddish stem, closely examined it, and broke the stem in half to check its sap. Poisonous spurge tended to grow among wild purslane and the surest way to tell the difference was by the sap. If it had been milky white, he wouldn't have stuffed it greedily into his mouth. He savored the juicy, mildly tangy tasting plant. He carefully picked more and nibbled on it.

A nice sized grasshopper landed on the ground beside him and he eyed it for a few moments. Every time he saw a grasshopper he couldn't help thinking about all the 'grasshopper' quotes from the show Kung Fu. A smile played across his lips as he remembered Chet's coming out with his own brand of grasshopper quotes to torment Johnny with. _"Grasshopper, a wise man always uses caution before opening doors; otherwise the cold waters of reality splashes all over him."_ Chet sure came up with some good ones at times.

The smile faded from Roy's face as his arm shot out quickly, capturing the grasshopper within his hand. _Hunger knows no friend but its feeder_, he thought as he felt the creature squirming against his palm.

* * *

><p>"Whadda ya' mean the cops won't file a report unless he's been missing for three days," Johnny huffed angrily into the phone.<p>

"Helluva lot of good that's gonna do him if he needs help now."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Johnny snorted. "Listen Deke, thanks for calling."

Johnny hung up the phone with a slam before slowly turning towards the rest of the crew. "I don't believe it! Can you…can you believe it! The police refuse to file a missing person's report on Roy unless he's been gone for three days. MAN! That's unbelievable."

Johnny plopped down angrily into a chair and slammed his fist onto the kitchen table beside his cup of coffee causing the liquid to almost slosh over the rim. "Unless they suspect foul play, the fuzz won't get involved. By then, Roy could be beyond help."

"Easy pal," Hank Stanley said calmly. "They called around all the hospitals, clinics, and shelters. He hasn't turned up there."

"Yeah, but that only means nobody's matching Roy's description has been brought in hurt, injured, or otherwise," Johnny let out an exasperated sigh. For all he knew his best friend could be fighting for his life in the middle of nowhere.

"So what are Roy's parent's planning on doing? Did they get a hold of Joanne yet?" Marco asked.

"They're gonna try and get a hold of her later on this afternoon. Her mother's surgery was this morning. Most likely she'll be there most of the day," Johnny answered. "As far as she knows Roy's here at work."

"Maybe you could try calling that detective that solved the fake hit-and-run case with crossing guard," Mike suggested.

"Yeah!" Johnny snapped his fingers. "Yeah, maybe he can pull some stings and get someone on the case sooner."

"It's worth a try," Hank added as Johnny jumped from his chair and headed towards the phone.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Ron Crockett grabbed the handset of the ringing phone from his desk and leaned back against chair. "Lieutenant Crockett here."<p>

"John Gage! Hey, it's been a while. What can I do for you John?" Lieutenant Crockett grinned ear-to-ear.

Lieutenant Crockett frowned as sat up straight in his desk and reached for a pen and his notebook. "Mmmm, yeah. Gage, so you don't believe DeSoto wouldn't just disappear for no good reason."

"Okay, _BUT_..."

"I agree. DeSoto doesn't seem the type that would blow outta town."

"Unless there is substantial evidence that points to foul play or a crime was committed, the police don't get involved until the person has been missing for 72 hours."

"I'm sorry, but my hands are tied. I can't _officially_ do anything until then."

"Have there been any threats against you boys lately? You know, ah-family member blaming you for the death of a loved one and vowing vengeance on you. That sorta thing."

"Uh-huh, nothing you can think of. DeSoto involved in any unsavory activities?

"_O-KAY_, you're sure about that?"

"Any trouble in paradise, if you know what I mean?"

"No Gage, I'm _NOT_ referring to you and him. I'm asking about how things are between him and the misses."

"So uh, Gage why are you calling me and not her?"

"Uhh-ha, she's outta town. Mmmmm, that sounds like there's some thunder and lightning going on between them? She wouldn't try and do him in or anything like that?"

"Hey, ease up man. I need to know these things. So he hasn't mentioned any marital issues."

"Anybody talk to his wife yet?"

"So she's up in San Diego and has no idea what's going on."

"Like I said, nothing official can be done until he's been missing for three days."

"Now hang on a minute, I said nothing official can be done. Unofficially I can look into things."

"So fill me in on what you know so far."

"So nobody's seen him since yesterday morning. Has anybody called around hospitals, medical centers…?"

"Good…good. Where is this summer camp located at?"

"Just a moment, just a moment, that area sounds familiar. I wanna check on something. Give me a sec." Lt. Crockett held his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "Hey Sterling, that report on the missing woman from Santa Monica. What area was she last seen in." He shouted out across the room.

"Here's the bulletin on that case," Sam Sterling said as he handed the Lieutenant the paper.

"Thanks Sam," Lt. Crockett said as he quickly glanced through it. He took his hand off the mouthpiece and spoke into it. "Gage, you still with me."

"Alright-y," Lieutenant Crockett mused as he scanned the bulletin. "Now, at the moment there is a search going on for another missing person in the general area where you say DeSoto may have disappeared."

"Yes, the one that's been in the news."

"Okay Gage, so they may not have taken the same route, but at least the authorities are checking the area out , so if he did disappear around there, they may stumble across him."

"Of course, they're looking for any indications of an accident, but that's a large area to cover."

"Any chance that DeSoto happened to know the missing woman?"

"Hey, I'm just asking in case there is a connection between the two. By the way, any chance DeSoto was stepping out on his wife?"

"I'm a cop. I get paid to have a suspicious mind." Lt Crockett held the phone a few inches from his ear. "Sorry Gage, I really do have to ask about this stuff."

"These are the same questions an officer would be asking at the time a report would be filed."

"Well, we need to know the state of mind of the person. It's not unheard of for someone to skip town for a few days to try and get their head on straight."

"John…Gage…_GAGE!_ Cool it man. It doesn't mean I think DeSoto's a two-bit hood, a cheating dog, or mentally unstable."

Lieutenant Crockett looked around and talked low and quiet into the phone. "If you repeat this, I'll have your hide. Yes, there are times I feel like a complete jerk when I ask things like that. It's part of the job. Hell, I'd be wondering about you if you didn't get offended by some of those questions."

"It's natural for family and friends to react that way to those types of inquiries."

"No apology necessary. Anything else you know off-hand that might be helpful?"

"What you guys can do for now is to plan and organize a search on your own. The sooner the better. And ahh…see about getting some flyers made up, that type of thing. Best thing to do is to get the word out on him."

"Not sure how much a printing company would charge to be honest."

"Good, good. Listen, I'm off duty in a couple hours. How about I swing by his parents' place and talk with them. They may know something that could shed some light onto the matter."

"Got his parents' address handy?"

"Okay, I'll swing by his house before heading out their way in case they're still there. I'll leave them a list of what to include on a flyer as far as DeSoto's description and all that jazz."

"Yeah man, I wish I could do more officially. Unfortunately, missing persons are a low priority. Unofficially, I'll do what I can."

"Even though I gave you fellas a hard time, I do kinda owe you and DeSoto one for taking care of Sterling when he got shot in the leg and helping out with the description of the getaway car."

"Thanks for calling. And Gage, keep me posted if you hear anything on DeSoto."

"So what was that all about," Sam Sterling asked.

Lt. Crockett pursed his lips together for a moment before answering. "Remember when you got shot in the leg, the paramedic that treated you."

Detective Sterling nodded. "Yeah, you got on his ass for not giving me some morphine for the pain."

"I did, didn't I," Lt. Crockett answered with a broad grin.

"What about him, Lieutenant."

"Seems he didn't show up for work today and nobody's seen or heard from him since yesterday morning."

"Need me to help you out with anything?" Detective Sterling asked.

"Naw, not right now. I'm going to talk to his family when my shift is done. About all I can do is get all the necessary information ready for when they can file a missing persons report. I could also advise them on what to do in the meantime."

"I'll go with you, if you want."

"I appreciate the offer, Sam, but it's your kid's birthday party tonight." Lieutenant Crockett looked over at his younger officer. "Besides, you'll probably be missing enough important events in his life because of this job."

"How about after tonight, give me a call if you need me, huh Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Crockett gave him a slight smile and pointed a finger in his direction. "Sure Sam, I'll do that. NOW get outta here and get your butt home. I'll stop by later to wish your son a "Happy Birthday.""

* * *

><p>Johnny hung up the phone and walked out of Captain Stanley's office into the bay. He stopped and paused when he reached the rear the driver's side of the squad. He looked at the side mirror, wanting so desperately to see Roy gaze back at him as he did his usual eye roll over something he might have said or done or some hear one of his smartass quips over his sanity or logic. He pounded the side of the squad with his fist in frustration. The worst was the 'not knowing' part of the whole situation. <em>Damn it Roy! You could badly need help and by the time the police get involved…it could be too late…MAN, it could be too late.<em> Johnny hit the side of the squad one more time before heading into the kitchen.

"Well, how'd you make out with Crockett?" Captain Stanley asked as Johnny joined them at the table.

"Not as well as I would have liked," Johnny answered grimly. "He basically said the same thing Roy's parents were told. The cops won't file a missing persons report for three days."

"Gage, I told ya' to tell 'em Roy was kidnapped by Bigfoot," Chet said.

Johnny narrowed his eyes at Chet. "You're unbelievable! How can you sit there joking 'bout Bigfoot while Roy could be in trouble."

"I am being serious Gage," Chet retorted back. "Some harebrained broad and movie crew over in Humboldt County claimed she was kidnapped by Bigfoot. They sure didn't wait three damn days to start looking for her. They had several posses out searching for her the next day."

"Yeah, but that's only because of all the public pressure over all the Bigfoot sightings in that area," Mike said.

"They're also thinking of pressing charges against her and the film crew for filing a false report," Marco said. "Would you believe the chick's own psychiatrist claimed to have seen her riding around in a car when she was supposedly missing?"

"It was rather convenient that some Bigfoot hunters just happened to have one of their own kidnapped by him," Mike added dryly.

"They certainly didn't waste any time rounding up a 150 deputies, Forest Service employees, and volunteers to search for her either," Chet snorted in disgust.

"The even had the bloodhounds out trying to track her down too," Marco said.

Johnny's sighed and tossed out his own sarcastic comment. "Well you know, we could claim Chet's hairy relatives from the midget branch of the Sasquatch family carried Roy off."

"Okay, enough about Bigfoot." Captain Stanley decided to put a halt to the discussion. "Bunch of twits," he muttered under his breath. He did have to admit that whole the discussion did help lighten the dark mood that had steadily fallen on them as the shift progressed.

"As much as I agree that Chet could be one of Bigfoot's hairy little Irish relatives, we're a long ways from Humboldt County to be claiming Bigfoot sightings," Bob Bellingham said calmly. "Also that girl may be facing a year in jail and a $15,000 fine for filing a false report. I doubt Roy would want y'all getting yourselves in a heap of trouble because of him."

They all turned and stared at Bob who sat on the sofa scratching Henry behind the ears. The level-headedness of his comment was something Roy would have said. Johnny looked down forlornly at the kitchen table and with one finger he toyed with the invisible crumbs in front of him.

"_NOW_ why don't you guys quit jawing about Bigfoot and some woman who turned up safe and sound a few days later with nary a hair out of place," Bob stated sternly as he looked at each of them one by one before fixating his gaze on Johnny. "_WELL_ Johnny, why don't you fill us in on what your detective friend said. Surely, he had some suggestions."

Johnny quickly recounted what he had discussed with Lieutenant Crockett with the rest of the crew. "So I guess for now, it's up to us to start organizing a search."

Captain Stanley cleared his throat. "Now John, before we start organizing anything, we really should check with Roy's parents. Technically, it's their call or Joanne's on this matter, but first and foremost we're still on duty and unfortunately we can't set all that aside for Roy." He felt like a total heel having to say Roy's welfare came second.

"But Cap," Johnny started to protest before he was interrupted.

"Cap's right. Our first responsibility right now is to the taxpayers," Bob Bellingham added. He knew it would better in the long run to divert the heat from Captain Stanley onto himself. After all he was a fill-in and not a regular crew member at the station. Hank Stanley would be left to captain this crew regardless of whether Roy turned up safe and sound or not.

"Sounds like we're throwing Roy under the bus like the cops are," Johnny muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear him.

"Now Johnny, that's not what Cap meant and you know it," Bob replied keeping a level of calmness in his voice. "It may come across as callous, but Roy would be the one first to tell you that our personal feelings and emotions take a back seat while we're on the job."

Johnny huffed crossing his arms over his chest and silently seethed. "So in other words, Bellingham, we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs. The hell with Roy."

"Nobody suggested we do nothing. I agree with what Lieutenant Crockett suggested about organizing a search. I think it's time to call on the department's top efficiency expert to go over and pay Roy's parents a visit," Bob said, as he got up and headed towards the phone.

"Please tell me he doesn't mean who I think he means." Chet rolled his eyes.

Hank Stanley thought a moment before answering. "You know, Bob may be onto something. Think about it, who's the most organized paramedic in the department? He'd be the most logical choice to pull resources together for a search."

"Hey there, Craig-y. This is Bob." Bob held his hand over the end of the phone. "He hates when I call him that." Bob smiled at them before turning his attention back to the phone. "Listen, I have a huge favor to ask you."

* * *

><p><em>Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grubs,<em> Roy thought sourly as he looked upwards at the blue, cloudless sky in a quasi-thankful way before swallowing one of the grubs he discovered under the rock he had just lifted. _It's not like manna from heaven was going to magically appear in my lap anytime soon._ He'd give anything to sample Chet's cooking, as awful as it was some days.

_Hunger makes the best sauce_, he thought as he quickly swallowed another grub. _Better to just gulp them whole to avoid gagging on them. _He would look around for some rotten logs; they usually contained an abundant source of protein in the form of termites. There were also worms, preferably soaked in water first so they can purge themselves, while ants needed to be drowned fast so they wouldn't bite the inside your mouth. He remembered from his training about avoiding colorful insects, the hairy ones, those that emitted a strong odor, if it bites – don't eat it, or ones that had eight or more legs.

He managed to snag a few grasshoppers awhile earlier. He had to admit, he preferred the grubs over the grasshopper guts. The preparation involved with the grasshoppers made him feel like the gross-weird kid in grammar school that twisted the heads off flies. The barbed legs and exoskeleton of a grasshopper were inedible. He rewarded himself with some young dandelion buds after each grasshopper. The more mature a dandelion was, the more bitter it tasted, so he stuck with picking the young ones that were close to the ground.

Roy headed over to a manzanita bush and began plucking some of its berries. The green berries tasted like tart apples. A few moments later he felt something crawling along his arm. He quickly brushed the tick off. He had forgotten that they liked manzanita bushes. He hated ticks, for some reason they always reminded him of walking scabs. He started to make his way back to the truck when he spotted some Minor's lettuce, causing him to grin from ear-to-ear. It was unusual to see Minor's lettuce in the summer. He quickly began to pick what little there was and shoved the watery greens into his mouth.

* * *

><p>"Were you able to get a hold of Joanne?" Harriett asked as her husband returned from the kitchen.<p>

Jim shook his head negatively as he wrapped an arm reassuringly around his wife's shoulder. "I'll try again in a couple of hours. She's probably still with her mother."

They both stood and stared at the flurry of activity in the house. A young man with dark hair and glasses was talking to the police lieutenant who'd interviewed them earlier. They weren't too keen on some personal questions he had asked about their son. Even though he took the time to explain that he had to ask these questions, they felt uncomfortable answering the ones pertaining to Roy and Joanne's relationship.

"Molly, does the real estate company you work for get their brochures and open house flyers printed professionally?" Craig Brice asked a tall redheaded woman.

"Sure, I do a little layout work on flyers after I get the pictures back on a house. Someone else handles sending it off to the printer," Molly answered.

"Do you think it would be possible to get in touch with the printing company and see if they can do up some flyers on DeSoto?"

Lieutenant Crockett stepped towards them before Molly could answer. "I'll spring for half the cost if everyone is willing to include information on another missing person case. Seems a young mother of two disappeared in the same proximity as Mr. DeSoto," he said as he pulled a black and white photo and fact sheet on the other case from a manila envelope.

Molly looked towards Roy's parents for a moment. Jim gave a nod of approval over the policeman's suggestion. "Roy would want that," he whispered to Harriett.

Molly took the information from Lieutenant Crockett while he described to her what information to include on the notice and to get a recent picture of Roy before she left. When he was done talking to Molly, Lieutenant Crockett headed over to Jim and Harriett.

"I'll be returning to the station later tonight. I'll see if I can push the right people into filing a missing person report before morning since Saturday was the last day he was officially seen," Lieutenant Crockett assured them as he shook Jim's hand.

'Thank you, Lieutenant," Harriett's voice wavered as she spoke.

Lieutenant Crockett held her hand within both of his and gave a gentle squeeze. "Just hang in there. There are a lot of good people already on the case right now." He released Harriett's hand and pulled one of his cards out of his pocket along with a pen from his breast pocket and quickly jotted down his home phone number before handing it to her. "I wrote my home phone number on the back. Promise to call me if you need anything."

"We can't thank you enough for stopping by," Jim said.

"It looks that young man over there will have a search party organized for the morning," he said as he pointed a thumb in Craig Brice's direction. "When you get a hold of Roy's wife, have her get in touch with me as soon as possible," he said before saying his 'goodbyes' to the couple.

Craig Brice was going through a list with fellow paramedic Deke Collins. Harriett and Jim watched as the orderly young man with glasses seemed to instinctively know how to organize everything and naturally allocate each responsibility to the most suitable person. He had already sent a few volunteers to the hardware and outdoors stores to get a list of equipment they would need.

"I'm going to head out to Wynn's CB store to pick up a CB kit and some of those long range walkie talkies that young fella mentioned that the hunters use. Then I'm going to go get the camper ready, are you going to be okay here?" Jim asked Harriett.

"Don't you think you should take one of the boys with you?" Harriett suggested.

"I'm picking Dom up on my way there. He should be rested up by now. He'll help me set up the CB," Jim answered. "Craig will let us know how many additional walkie talkies and binoculars we need to pick up in the morning."

Jim and Harriett had planned on staying in search area until Roy was found. There were several of campgrounds along the route and as Craig suggested they could set up a 4-way CB station in it and use it as a mobile command post and also mentioned that he might be able to convince the fire department mechanic Charlie to set up his camper as another post.

Harriett gave him a half-hearted smile before pointing over in Craig Brice's direction. "Check with that young man before you head out and see if there's anything he else needs. I'll try and see if I can get a hold of Joanne in the next half hour."

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," he said, as he gave her a quick kiss before leaving.

* * *

><p>Joanne was juggling a couple bags of groceries in her arms at the kitchen side door as she tried getting the key into the lock of the side door to the kitchen. She didn't hear the neighbor Mrs. Gorvett come up behind her over the crumpling sound of the brown paper grocery bags.<p>

"How about I take one of those bags while you get the door?" she offered to a flustered Joanne as she grabbed one of the bags from her.

"Thanks," Joanne replied as she finally opened the door. Mrs. Gorvett followed her inside. "Give me a moment and I'll put a pot of coffee on."

"You don't have to bother dear, I just came to see how your mother made out," the older woman replied.

"Oh, she came out of surgery fine this morning. She was groggy from the anesthetic for most of the morning."

"She's not in too much pain, is she?" Mrs. Gorvett asked as she helped Joanne unpack the groceries and put them away.

Joanne smiled reassuringly at her as she put the percolator on the stove. "The pain medication they have her on makes her drowsy so she's slept on and off for most of the day."

"I thought I would check with you first and see how she was doing before going up tomorrow to visit her."

"She'd would probably enjoy having some visitors tomorrow. You sure you don't want a cup of coffee?" Joanne offered as she poured a cup.

"Sure, why not," Mrs. Gorvett answered as Joanne set some sugar and cream onto the table. "So tell me how the children are doing. Is the youngest one in school?"

"She just finished kindergarten. She'll be in school full-time at the end of summer."

The two woman chit-chatted while Joanne started to prepare a ham and cheese casserole. Mrs. Gorvett joined in and worked along side her. They had just put the casserole in the oven and sat down at the kitchen table for a second cup of coffee when the phone rang. Joanne got up from the table and lifted the handset from the phone on the wall.

"Hello," she greeted the caller.

"Ummmm no, he never mentioned any plans to go anywhere after he dropped the kids off," Joanne answered as the color drained from her face.

Mrs. Gorvett watched as Joanne's smile slowly faded from as she listened to the caller on the other end. She sensed that whatever the call was about it wasn't good news. Joanne mostly listened to the person on the other end, emitting an occasional acknowledgement as pupils of her eyes dilated in panic while her bottom lip quivered.

"What you mean he's missing?" Joanne voice wavered as her legs began to feel rubbery. "I'll be home as soon as possible."

"I'm fine to drive! How am I going to get a good night's sleep while he's missing?" Joanne snapped as tears coursed down her face. She felt Mrs. Gorvett's hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't mean to yell at you," Joanne's voice was barely audible as a wave of remorse hit her. "No, you're right I shouldn't be driving right now."

"No, I'm not alone right now. Mrs. Gorvett, Mother's neighbor is here."

"I'll be home sometime tomorrow morning," Joanne whimpered softly into the phone. "I love you too, Mom."

Joanne's hand trembled as she tried to hand the phone back up on the wall. Mrs. Gorvett took the handset from her and put it back in its cradle on the side of the phone before guiding the younger woman to a chair. Mrs. Gorvett handed her a packet of Kleenex she kept in the pocket of her dress.

"That was Roy's mother. He didn't show up for work today, nobody's seen him since yesterday. He's missing…" Joanne blurted out as the tissue she held up to her eyes soaked up more tears.

* * *

><p>Roy had spent the afternoon under the hood of his truck working on removing the windshield washer fluid container located near the front wheel on the driver's side. He figured it would make a more suitable canteen than the tiny BandAid container. He was lucky one of the screwdrivers was the right size for removing the bracket holding it in place. He dumped out the fluid and planned on rinsing it out as best he could in the morning. His next task had been to remove the side and rearview mirrors from the truck. One of the smaller mirrors he planned on taking with him in case in case he needed a signal. The other had already been placed out in the open where the sun might reflect off of them. If he was lucky enough, any search copters that might be sent out might pick up their reflection. He planned on placing the larger rearview mirror in front of Sarah Loaring's final resting place before he attempted to climb out of the ravine.<p>

He then gathered up what he thought he could use for climbing tomorrow. He had his walking stick, the jumper cables and other items set aside on the passenger side floor. Now all he needed to do was get a decent night's sleep. He watched the fog roll in as the last of the tip of the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. He didn't notice the slight sunburn on his back until he slipped the blanket over his shoulders. The material chaffed uncomfortably against the skin on his back as he moved around until he found a comfortable position. He slipped his balled up jacket between his head and seat.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**The Bigfoot kidnapping case the Station 51 guys were discussing is based on an actual incident that occurred on May 22, 1976 in Humboldt County. There were plenty of 'Bigfoot sightings' that boosted the tourist industry in that area during that time period. This particular case actually made the national news. In the end, the Humboldt County had to suck up the cost of $11,613 of the search. Names of the actual people involved were deliberately left out.**

"**Hunger knows no friend but its feeder." - Aristophanes**

"**Hunger makes the best sauce" is a variation of a quote by Benjamin Franklin - "Hunger makes the best pickle."**

**I did visit numerous survival sites to research the last two chapters, but the one I found most useful was the Wilderness Survival site. There are many poisonous plants that resemble edible plants. FYI (for those that are interested) The Berry Rule: 10% of white and yellow berries are edible; 50% of red berries are edible; 90% of blue, black, or purple berries are edible, and 99% of aggregated berries are edible.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>And talk of poems and prayers and promises<strong>

**And things that we believe in**

**How sweet it is to love someone**

**How right it is to care**

**How long it's been since yesterday**

**What about tomorrow**

**What about our dreams**

**And all the memories we share**

**John Denver, Poems, Prayers, & Promises, 1971**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_Bob Bellingham's snoring could give a bulldozer a run for its money._ It amazed Hank how Bob could sleep anytime and anywhere. The lack of snoring from the far side of the dorm told Hank that Marco and Chet were already awake. Mike didn't make much noise when he slept so Hank wasn't sure if he was awake or not. He knew Johnny got up a half hour ago and was probably in the kitchen. He hoped Johnny put on a pot of coffee while he worried over Roy. It was probably the first time Hank recalled not hearing the usual bellyaching from his crew when the morning tones went off. It was eerily silent for a few moments until the rustle of bed sheets indicated that the men were getting up from their bunks.

Bob let out a huge yawn. "Looks like Gage is already up and at 'em."

"I hope he wasn't up all night worrying about Roy," Mike added.

"Yeah, well I hope he's brewing while he's brooding," snuffled Chet as he stretched his arms out.

Each of the men filed out of the dorm and headed towards the kitchen. Marco got out a frying pan and starting cooking some bacon while Chet put some bread into the toaster. Chet got some coffee mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the table. He quickly buttered the toast that popped out as Bob walked around the table filling up the mugs with coffee. Mike got the plates and silverware and set the table. Johnny sat at the far end of the table his elbows on the table and his hands supporting his head. He remained silent as the crew pitched in together to fix breakfast.

"Please tell me you got some sleep," Mike inquired as he sat down across from Johnny.

Johnny looked drolly over at Mike. "How could anybody sleep beside a man that snores like a buzz saw out of one end while noxious gases explode out of the other?"

"I'm no worse than the next fella," Bob smiled back.

"Oh really, I bet whoever is assigned to clean the dorms will have to spend half the shift scrubbing the scorch marks from the brick divider," Johnny mumbled. "Not to mention how many times I had to roll down the window in the squad yesterday."

Bob smiled, thankful that Johnny's mind was on something other than Roy. "Let me tell you something, Gage," he said wagging a finger at him. "If you hold in your farts, they travel up your spine, go into your brain where they fester, _AND_ _THAT'S_ how crappy ideas are born."

"Thanks for sharing that, Bellingham," Captain Stanley said dryly. "Can we change the topic? Marco is almost ready to start the eggs."

Marco smiled in amusement as he set the down a plate of bacon on the table and cracked open a couple of eggs into the frying pan. He was familiar enough with his shift mates that he didn't need to ask how they liked them cooked.

"Johnny, eggs are ready," Marco said as he handed Bob a plate with a couple of eggs sunny side up.

Bob grabbed a couple of slices of bacon and used them to construct a smiley face on the plate before handing it over to Johnny who muttered that he wasn't hungry. "You're eating 'em whether you're hungry or not."

Captain Stanley lobed an authoritative look at his younger paramedic. "That's an order. Besides, not eating isn't going to help the situation or make it any better."

Johnny glared at them as he picked up a piece of bacon and began munching on it. Bob threw a couple slices of toast onto his plate in response. One by one, a plate was set in front of each man until lastly Marco sat down with his own meal in front of him. The clanging of silverware against the plates was the only sound that could be heard as they ate. They all seemed fixated on the clock on the wall, hoping it would move its hands quicker to indicate 8:00 am which was still over an hour away.

Captain Stanley finally broke the silence by clearing his throat. "I'm sure all of us will be heading out this morning once we're relived to go join the search for Roy, but I want to remind everyone that in two days we are _ALL_ due back on shift." He paused and locked eyes with Johnny. "Whether Roy is found or not, we will be required to show up for work. Others will be continuing the search in our places."

"B'sides," Bob drawled, "Craig has all that covered. He has a schedule and rotation in place for the search based on who's working and who's not. Until Roy is found, everyone can pitch in when they're available."

Johnny glared angrily back, but held his tongue. He already put in a request to have the next shift off only to be denied by headquarters. He'd have to be dragged back L.A. if Roy wasn't found in the next two days. He planned on spending the night in the search area, even if it meant sleeping in the back of his Rover. He anxiously fidgeted in his chair and let out the air from his lungs in frustration causing it whistle between his lips. By the time he stopped by his apartment and gathered enough essentials for staying a few nights, it would be midmorning before he would be joining the search.

* * *

><p>Joanne was a bundle of nerves as she lugged the last of her suitcases out to her station wagon. Mrs. Gorvett had generously offered to help take care of her mother when she got home and would arrange for any additional care if she thought it necessary. Knowing her mother was being looked after gave her some piece of mind until Eileen and her family returned from their vacation at the end of the week. Her main worry was how her mother was going to take her leaving to go search for her husband. Her loyalties were torn between two people that she loved very much and it boiled down to who needed her most. Her husband had vanished into thin air and the possible scenarios that ran through her mind made her stomach curdle. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before going around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. She headed out to her station wagon once she was sure that the house was secure and she didn't forget anything.<p>

She focused on her driving and tried not to think about the knot in her stomach as she drove to the hospital. She figured it would be best if she stopped by to personally tell her mother what was going on and why she had to leave. _It would have been cowardly way out to do this over the phone. I'd feel much worse telling her that way_, she thought. _BUT, at the same time, if_ _I stay and help out Mother, Roy will think I'm an awful, uncaring wife. How can I take care of her while I'm feeling horribly guilty because I'm not out looking for Roy? If Roy was fine he would have turned up by now. I'm feeling like an ungrateful daughter for leaving Mother in the care of a neighbor._

Joanne parked her station wagon and walked briskly across the parking lot to the entrance of the hospital lobby. She slowed down her pace as she entered the hospital and made her way to the elevator. She chided herself for impatiently pushing the up button several times knowing it wasn't going to make the elevator come any faster. It felt like several minutes had passed before the elevator made its way up to the 5th floor; she knew her anxiety made each second seem like an eternity. She finally stood outside of her mother's room and reached into her purse for her compact. She quickly checked over her face, paying particular attention to her eyes. Even with the concealer she had applied earlier, the dark circles were still noticeable. She snapped the compact closed and shoved it back into her purse. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she squared her shoulders back ready to face the storm front from her mother that she had prepared herself for all morning. She grabbed the door handled and hesitated for a moment. _What if she thinks Roy's pulling a stunt just to get me home and away from her?_

She opened the door and stepped inside of the room. She was surprised to see Mrs. Gorvett sitting beside her mother watching the morning news on the television. From its mount on the wall, her husband's face flashed for a brief moment on the screen. Lieutenant Crockett had mentioned to her that he was going to try and push getting a report filed on her husband through this morning. She called him last night after Mrs. Gorvett had left. One of the things he was hoping for was to get the story out on the morning news. The last thing she wanted was to have her mother find out this way.

Even knowing beforehand that her husband's case might be broadcasted, it never really prepared her for actually viewing it on the TV. Joanne felt an added dimension of reality weigh down on her from seeing and hearing the news report of her husband's disappearance. She could feel the blood in her veins coursing towards her feet as she locked eyes with her mother. She wanted to tell her mother personally about what was going on with Roy instead of finding out this way.

Eunice stared expressionlessly back at her daughter before saying her name in a raspy whisper. "_Joanne?_"

Joanne stood opened mouthed for a moment before the words finally found their way out. "I-I wanted to tell you myself. I-I'm sorry…I need to go find…" Joanne sputtered out as the battle between her duties as a daughter and wife consuming her internally.

"Joanne," Eunice said as she motioned for her daughter to sit down beside her on the bed. She didn't blame Joanne for hesitating a moment before slowly walking over to her side. She wasted so many years trying to figure out what Joanne saw in Roy. Her reasons for disliking her son-in-law, real or imagined, all of a sudden felt unimportant. She was the one who had failed her daughter; negligent of fulfilling those silent, unspoken promises of motherhood - of unconditional love, sacrifice, and fostering. Those obligations never ended just because Joanne was now an adult and a mother herself. She looked down at her left foot that was propped up on a pillow. How could she expect Joanne to take care of her when her husband needed her more than she did? She could afford to call an agency and have a visiting nurse come to the house to tend her foot. It was high time she put Joanne's needs ahead of her own desires and wants.

"M-mom…I'm sorry I have to head back home," Joanne said slowly as her hands fiddled nervously with the straps of her purse. She looked around for Mrs. Gorvett who had quietly left the room without either one of them noticing. "Mrs. Gorvett said she and her husband would drive you home from the hospital and help you out at home."

Eunice opened her arms in a gesture she hadn't used since Joanne was a small child in need of comforting. Joanne slowly sat down allowing her mother's arms to enfold her. Their base instincts took over both of them – the mother's necessity to provide succor for her daughter who now craved and required that consolation. She held her daughter tightly, gently smoothing her hair, nurturing by her actions instead of words to deliver the sustenance Joanne needed from her. She could feel Joanne's tears soaking through the thin fabric of the shoulder of her nightie as she rocked her gently.

Joanne finally lifted her head and slowly sat up straight as Eunice continued to rub her forearm. She grabbed the box of Kleenex from her bedside table, pulling a couple out as she wiped the tears from her daughter's face. "Jo, promise me you'll drive home carefully and just call me when you get home."

Joanne nodded as she blew her nose.

Eunice held her hand tightly. "I-I truly hope nothing bad has happened t-to Roy," she stuttered as her own eyes filled with tears and a lump formed in her throat. "I mean that, Jo. I hope you find him safe and unharmed."

They locked eyes for a second and Joanne knew in her heart that her mother had meant those words. "I know, Mom," Joanne said softly as she returned a squeeze to her mother's hand.

Mrs. Gorvett had silently entered the room carrying a Styrofoam cup of coffee and an apple danish on a plate. She placed a supportive hand on Joanne's shoulder as the younger woman took the cup from her. "I know this isn't the best breakfast in the world, but I suspect you skipped it this morning," she said as she set the plate on Joanne's lap.

"Gladys is right, you need to eat something," Eunice added softly encouraging Joanne to take a bite.

"Why do I have a feeling you won't let me leave this room until I do?" Joanne made a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

"Because I won't," Eunice said gruffly, before brushing a stray lock of Joanne's hair away from her face.

* * *

><p>Dom Barberi had stopped by the station that morning just before shift change to fill everyone in on the search plans organized by Craig Brice. Roy's parents were going to run a command center from their Streamline camper out at the Saddle Peak Lookout Point and Charley, LAoFD's most temperamental mechanic, was using his camper as another post somewhere along Tuna Canyon Road just before the residential area leading to South Topanga Boulevard. Brice had assigned each search team a number and a walkie-talkie.<p>

Johnny was surprised to learn several teams had already headed up before dawn to begin setting things up and start searching by the time the sun came up this morning. He knew some would be coming back at the end of today to start their shifts tomorrow morning. Chet and Marco were planning on camping out in Chet's VW van, while Hank and Mike had booked a couple of rooms at a local area motel. Bob was going to be working with Craig Brice during the search. Knowing Joanne was heading home, Johnny reluctantly volunteered to stop by Roy's place to help the wives and other concerned friends pack up food and supplies before heading up. With him being Roy's best friend, it didn't seem right that he at least not be there when his wife arrived home. Once he had gone back to his apartment and packed what he needed, he headed over to Roy's house. Until Dom had mentioned Joanne was returning this morning, Johnny never thought of her needs and his duties towards her as Roy's best friend.

Johnny helped Roy's mother lug the last of the food, water, and a couple of boxes of flyers to Susan Collins' station wagon. Johnny had long ago dubbed station wagons as 'mommy mobiles' because they seemed to be the vehicle of choice for mothers with children. It wasn't too often he came across a single, unmarried woman driving one of those. Susan and Molly Eggart were going to put up flyers along every business, store, and lookout point along the search route. They were going to start at Calabasas and work their way through the populated areas. A few of the other wives had also formed teams to distribute the flyers. Susan was going to drop Harriett off at the Saddle Peak Lookout Point to join her husband before she and Molly started handing out flyers.

He watched the station wagon pull out and head down the road. Harriett had informed him when he arrived that Joanne was on her way and that she had talked to Lieutenant Crockett last night. Johnny sighed as he made his way back into the house to wait for Joanne. _Great, I hope he didn't fill her head full of all kinds of nonsense about Roy._ He plopped down on the living room couch and crossed his arms. Harriett had planned on driving Joanne up, but Johnny figured if Lieutenant Crockett had filled her head with any doubts about Roy, she'd be more comfortable asking him any questions she had on her mind. He had managed to convince Harriett to ride with Susan and Molly promising her that he would take care of Joanne.

Not one to sit still for long, he got up and stared pacing around and stopped when he got to the pictures hung on the hallway wall. Some pictures were grouped together as montages under a single frame while others had their own individual frames. Joanne had put a lot of love and care organizing the DeSoto family gallery on this wall. He stopped and starting with the first picture he began to see glimpses of his best friend's life. Harriett holding Roy when he was about a year, Johnny couldn't help but notice how much mother and son resembled each other. Even as a toddler he recognized Roy's smile. He glanced at the cherub looking baby photo of Joanne as a toddler, before coming across the pictures of them as small children.

He laughed at the group of the photos in one frame showing Roy as a gangly, awkward young teenager just entering high school and the next frame show several photos showing him and Joanne as a couple of shy teenagers. He guessed they had just started dating as he stared at the photo of them leaning against his yellow sports car, growing steadily more comfortable with each other over the next several photos: their prom, gatherings at the beach behind his parents' house. He knew that shortly before Roy graduated, his parents had moved to Malaga Cove from Norwalk.

Johnny stared at the stoic expression on Roy's face as he stood in uniform before being shipped off to Vietnam. The noticeable etchings of war apparent in his face produced a harshness around his eyes and mouth that remained present in his visage in several photos taken after his tour of duty. He could still see it in the picture of Roy taken at the Fire Academy. Roy never talked about much about his time as a combat medic or about the man who stood beside him in the wedding photo as his best man. Johnny knew only bits and pieces about his time over in Vietnam, his closest friend from childhood and young adulthood life. Roy kept that part of his past pocketed away from almost everyone, including Joanne. Johnny came across a photo he had never seen before; it was of Roy, Joanne, and a small puppy. He knew who the dog was; Joanne had often joked about Fergie being their first child. _Funny, how many times have I walked down this hallway and never noticed this picture?_

A cluster of pictures followed, starting with Chris' newborn picture and several others marking special events such as his first birthday. Among them was a picture of him and Roy who was holding a two-year-old Chris in front of the squad. Joanne insisted he stand beside Roy in that picture the day she had stopped by the station the first shift after bill PM 11307 had finally passed and they could officially function as paramedics. This was where he noticed his presence in many of the other pictures that followed. _Has it been almost seven years since we've become friends?_ Johnny asked himself. He glanced at Jennifer's baby pictures and saw the progression of her from going from newborn to toddler. He saw an image of himself, along few other familiar faces, standing in the background of some, like the one with Roy, Joanne, and Chris helping her blow out her candle on her first birthday.

Finally, he was at the end of the pictures. The last one was the most recent family picture taken a few months ago. Roy's arm was around Joanne's shoulder with his other hand resting on Jennifer's left shoulder while Joanne's right hand rested on Chris's. He studied Joanne for a moment. Other than the length of her hair varying throughout the years, her face had only slightly aged. Roy seemed to have aged a more over the time he knew him. _Definitely some thinning going on at the sides and crown_, Johnny smiled. Roy's hair had also darkened to a russet color.

_I owe it to you to see her through this…and them,_ _Pally_, he thought as he continually fixed his gaze on Roy's image. _B'sides it's only fitting she partner up with me while we search for you._

He heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the front door and strode back up the hallway as Joanne entered the house. They locked eyes for a moment before Joanne lugged her one suitcase from behind her.

"Let me get the suitcases for you." Johnny strode across the living room to the door.

"Just give me a moment to empty this suitcase out and pack some suitable clothing," Joanne replied as she handed him the keys to her station wagon. "Just get the other suitcase for me from the station wagon and leave it in the living room. You can toss my overnight bag in your Rover," she said over her shoulder as she walked towards her bedroom. She changed into a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, tossing her clothes hastily into the bathroom hamper.

Picking up the phone by the bed she called her mother to let her know she had gotten home safely. "Okay Mom, I've got to go."

"Johnny's driving me up there."

"Love you, bye," she finished up her phone call feeling slightly guilty at how rushed she must have come across to her mother.

Unlatching the suitcase on the bed, she unceremoniously dumped its contents onto the bed. She quickly pulled open a couple dresser drawers and grabbed three pairs of jeans, a couple pairs of long shorts, some short sleeved shirts as well as some long sleeved ones. She went to the closet and pulled out a couple of Roy's flannel shirts and stuffed them into the suitcase. She snapped it shut after throwing in some warms socks and undergarments on top. She didn't even bother putting away the clothes she dumped on the bed as she lugged the case back out into the living room.

She kicked off the flat shoes she was wearing into the closet in the entrance-way before retrieving her hiking shoes and a pair of sturdy sneakers. "Give me a moment to get my shoes on and I'll be ready to go,' she breathed out hastily as Johnny grabbed the suitcase and set it outside on the walkway.

"I'll check and make sure everything is locked up before we hit the road," Johnny said as he made his way to the kitchen to secure the door.

Johnny hurriedly locked the front door as he noticed Joanne was fumbling to get the suitcase into the Rover. "Get inside, I'll shove this in the back," he said.

* * *

><p>Something inside of Roy wouldn't allow him to begin his climb out of the ravine this morning without leaving some type of marker to indicate her location. He finished putting the last rock onto the pile before sticking the rearview mirror from his truck on top. He knew he should have started climbing out of the ravine earlier in the day before the hot sun came out instead of taking the time to fashion a crude beacon which in all probability would only be spotted if the sun's rays hit the mirror the right way. He looked over at the wreckage that was Sarah Loaring's temporarily interment. He bowed his head for a moment. He gave her moment of silent reverence and his promise to let her loved ones know of her fate. Her family deserved to know what happened to her and she deserved a proper and final resting place where her loved ones could go to seek solace from her.<p>

It took him several minutes to get his jacket done up with one hand. He didn't like the idea of wearing it knowing the temperature would rise as the day progressed; however, his body would require some protection from the rough brush he was sure to encounter as he climbed out of the ravine this morning. He picked up the thick branch he used as a walking stick and began to make his way to a spot in between the two crash sites. The only items he carried with him were his pocketknife and one of the screwdrivers that he had found underneath the seat of the truck the day after his crash.

He had waited for the sunrise to eat some of the nearby vegetation for breakfast. He had stored some water in the windshield washer fluid container and after several attempts at finding a way to carry it he gave up. He had found trying to carry the container half-filled with water awkward and could find no convenient, comfortable, or feasible way to bring it with him. It was too bulky to go under his jacket and without a handle it was next to impossible to tie it securely to his person with just one hand. Realizing he was going to have enough trouble crawling out of the ravine with only one good arm and a bad foot, he decided to leave it by the truck. _Just as well_, he thought. _It probably still has some trace amounts of methanol in it. _He found the hubcap better, faster, and more efficient for collecting water, but it wasn't exactly portable.

Roy looked up at the incline which he guessed to be somewhere around a 70˚ angle maybe 80 in some of the steeper spots. He knew it was practically going to be crawling out on his knees more than anything. The harsh and scratchy call of a scrub jay caught drew his attention to a nearby bush. He locked eyes with the bird before it jumped off the branch into flight. He watched the blue and grayish colored bird upwards along the slope of the ravine. It would take the scrub jay mere moments to make its way out of the ravine, while he was looking at hours, most of the day perhaps.

"_**Because I fly, I envy no man on earth**_," he muttered as it disappeared from his sight. He remembered that quote from his flying instructor when he was going for his pilot's license. One of the rare times he never completed something he started. It was something he and his best friend Cuddy had started together and he didn't have the heart to complete the few remaining requirements to get his license without him.

He was thankful that Johnny never asked him about why he never became a 'hot pilot' the day he talked a young teenage boy through landing a plane after his father had suffered a heart attack in flight. They had only been paramedics a short time when they were called out to a small airfield in Serrano. Later on at the hospital, Johnny had tried to compliment him on doing a fine job of talking the kid through landing the plane. Roy smiled; he would never forget the look on Johnny's face as he told him he had 'saw the whole thing done in a movie once.' Roy's smile faded; a few days later the boy's father didn't make it. _What was that kid's name…Yes, Frankie…Frankie Pierce_, Roy recalled. _He must be finished high school by now. I wonder if he'll ever fly again?_ Something inside of him knew Frankie would be flying again if he wasn't already. One of his father's passions was flying and he was in the process of passing that passion onto his son. He and Cuddy only took up flying because they were entertaining the idea of becoming bush pilots.

It had been a long time since he had thought about his best friend. Joanne had found out she was pregnant with their son a few weeks after Cuddy's funeral. Like Frankie's father, there were things he had vowed to pass onto Chris, things he needed to share with his son – about himself, about his namesake. Roy ran a hand across the bristly whiskers that now coated his face. The only way he could fulfill any of his promises was to get out of this place. He would have to take his time and proceed carefully. Letting out a heavy sigh, he took the first few steps towards honoring those obligations.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong>

**Roy recited the last two lines from a poem called 'Because I Fly'**

**It is very possible that there is no known author for this poem. I've come across at least two different people credited with writing this poem**_** Grover C. Norwood **_**(Date unknown, but name more associated with this poem) and**_** Brian Shul (1977 (?))**_**.**

**Full Poem - "Because I Fly"**

_**Because I fly,**_

_**I laugh more than other Men, I look up and see more than they.**_

_**I know how the clouds feel, What it's like to have the blue in my lap,**_

_**To look down**_

_**on Birds,**_

_**To feel freedom in a thing called the Stick.**_

_**Who but I**_

_**Can slice between God's billowed legs,**_

_**And feel them laugh and crash with his step?**_

_**Who else has seen the unclimbed peaks?**_

_**The rainbow's secret?**_

_**The real reason birds sing? **_

_**Because I fly,**_

_**I envy no man on earth. — **_


	8. Chapter 8

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Failure is not falling down, it is not getting up again"<strong>

― **Mary Pickford**

**Chapter 8**

Joanne checked the time on her watch and noticed it was only five minutes past the last time she looked at it. Some words of motherhood came back to haunt her; 'Are we there yet?' She bit her tongue to keep from saying them herself. She knew she was driving Johnny crazy with her nervous fidgeting as she wiggled around in the passenger seat and tapped her fingers against her leg. She could tell he was being polite as she mentally chided herself. _Sit still Joanne! You're acting like you have ants in your pants!_ She half expected Johnny to scold her using those same words. He had heard her say that phrase many times to her own children whenever they twiddled around in excitement. She tried to concentrate on the nonsensical commercials emitting from the radio. Her ears perked up on the words '_news update_' causing her to sit as still as a marble statue.

"_Early this morning, many off-duty L.A. County Fire Fighters set off from LA to volunteer in the search for missing fireman Roy DeSoto. His disappearance follows that of Sarah Loaring from Santa Monica a week earlier. Police state there is no evidence to suggest the two cases are connected, but they also haven't ruled that out…"_

Johnny frowned and quickly turned off the radio not wanting to chance the newscaster adding his own half-baked theories on why two people vanished in the same vicinity within a week of each other. He already heard enough wild theories and speculation from the radio call-in shows this morning. It bothered him how people could opinionate on someone they knew nothing about without any regard to the possibility their loved ones might be listening. He looked over at Joanne. Her lips were pressed together tightly and eyebrows lowered, showing her annoyance.

"Johnny?" Joanne asked.

Johnny swallowed nervously before answering. "What is it, Jo?"

"I wish those jerks would stop making assumptions about Roy and the Loaring woman knowing each other. Roy can't manage to tell me a little white lie without the guilt showing on his face."

"Yeah, me too." Johnny gave her a half-smile, "I supposed that's the downside of getting the word out. You always have some lamebrain trying to find a way to scandalize things."

Joanne frowned in agreement. "I guess my biggest fear is they're both victims of some maniac. I keep remembering the kid who flipped out and shot at the cars on Highway 101. Roy had just left for Vietnam when it happened."

Johnny slowed the car down as he pulled to the side of the road in front of the camping trailer. He remembered the incident she was referring to, he had been finishing his junior year of high school. He peeked over at Joanne and gave her an awkward squeeze on the shoulder. He knew the odds were more than likely Roy went off the road instead of meeting up with a deranged maniac.

"Let's not let our imaginations start running away with us. There's nothin' to suggest foul play. 'Sides, Roy's a pretty resourceful guy. He'll find a way to let us know where to find him." Johnny hoped he sounded more optimistic than what he felt inside.

"You're right," Joanne said softly. Perhaps the drive up had allowed her mind to wander into some grim possibilities in an attempt to make sense of the situation.

"I'm going to check in with Charley to see what leg of the route the guys are searching," Johnny stated as he opened the door to his Rover.

He let out a heavy sigh as he closed the door behind him and walked to the trailer. _Was he saying the right things to Joanne? All the crazy things going on in the world, I suppose anything's possible._ The last thing he wanted was to say something that would drain her hopes. That's all any of them were hanging on to at the moment.

* * *

><p>Roy stared downwards to estimate how much headway he made and doubted he was a quarter of the way up yet. The dry, crumbly terrain was gave him little choice but to inch his way upward using mostly his knees and right arm and hand to steady himself. The ground had given way a couple of times already, causing him to lose a few feet of progress each time, which accounted for his lack of advancement. <em>As long as I don't end up back at the bottom, I've got all day to do this,<em> he thought as he decided it was time to take a break. He spotted a small, shady area nearby and surveyed it. _Last thing I need is to meet up with one of Johnny's fanged friends hiding in the underbrush_. Once he was sure the area was safe, he crept over to the bush to get out of the sun.

A pulsating vibration coursed throughout his body as the perspiration seeped from his pores in tandem with his heartbeat. He blinked his stinging eyes several times as sweat ran into them. He tilted his head back to change the direction of the rivulets so they changed their direction towards his hairline, weaving their way between the strands of his hair, capturing particles of dirt that were in their path. This caused a ticklish feeling on his scalp and he began to scratch his head, stopping abruptly as the nicks and cuts on the pads of fingers and palm became irritated by the salty perspiration.

He pulled the zipper on his jacket half-way down, allowing the pent up heat to escape. He fanned the opening to cool down his body. No doubt the temperature had risen a few degrees since he started up the slope, but the physical activity of climbing had made it feel like it had tripled. He knew the effects heat could have on a person after treating several firefighters recently during last month's brushfire in Tujunga Canyon for conditions caused by excessive heat. Gary Vincente from 110's was brought over to him for heat exhaustion while he was working at a treatment area setup on over on Grove Street. Roy had removed Vincente's turnout coat and sat him down on the running board of the squad. The next thing he knew Vincente's eyes fixated on something and he started babbling about a group of militant gnomes spreading the fire. Roy spotted an ornamental lawn gnome on the lawn of a nearby vacated residence which was apparently the focal point of Vincente's agitation. He pushed Roy out of the way as he attempted to get up to catch the little 'fire-breathing bugger' before it set more houses ablaze. Seeing the commotion, Bob Bellingham came over to assist Roy with Vincente. _Good old Bellingham helped me hold him down while he convinced Vincente the lawn gnomes were on our side and the little fella was keeping an eye out for the pink flamingos. They were the ones responsible for spreading the fire with their blazing turds. According to the last report, there were one or two flame shitters left to capture over on the other side of Oro Vista Park. Good thing nobody on Grove Street had one of those gaudy pink things on their front lawn._ Roy shook his head in wonderment over how Bellingham could come up with something so outrageous while managing to say it in a sincerely serious tone. Once Vincente was convinced the fire department had rounded up the all of the pink flamingos he'd calmed down and cooperated with them.

Roy was well aware of how the effects of heat could sneak up on you without you being aware of it, having experienced it during a fire at nightclub. He ran a grimy hand across the three day growth of bristles that now covered his chin. His deck shoes had given him multiple blisters, some of which had popped already. The right knee of his jeans had worn away, causing the dirt and small stones to grind against his skin while the material covering his left knee was worn to paper thinness and was ready to give way.

He rested a few moments longer until he decided his temperature was close to normal. He would have loved to have ditched his jacket, but it was his only source of protection from the bristly underbrush, plus it held his broken arm close to his body, acting as a makeshift sling. The downside, just like a fireman's turnout coat, was that it held in the heat. He slowly shuffled out from under the bush and resumed his climb. He knew it would be prudent to pace himself and not let the heat take possession of him.

* * *

><p>Mike slowly inspected the embankment below using the binoculars below while Hank painstakingly surveyed the gravel on the side of the road seeking out signs of a skid mark, a piece of metal – anything - to indicate a vehicle might have gone off the road or some clue that might lead them to his missing crew member. They had been out here for two hours combing the half-mile segment of road that Craig Brice had assigned them. As they were off duty for the next two days, they were checking along Stunt Road a few miles from the turnoff on Mulholland Highway. Other off-duty personnel were canvassing parts of Tuna Canyon Road which would make for a shorter trip back to Los Angeles for them.<p>

"Roy….ANYBODY! Mike yelled, and then waited a moment for a response of silence in the air. "Nothing." Mike let out a heavy sigh.

Hank gave him a half-smile. "It's gonna be like finding for a needle in a haystack."

Mike handed him the binoculars and rubbed his eyes. "Time to switch off. I need a break from these things."

"Why don't you move my car ahead to the flag," Hank said as he tossed the keys to Mike. "I'll check down the embankment on the other side of the road."

Hank could see the flag indicating the end of their patch of road. The roadside marked by small orange flags to indicate the beginning and end of each half-mile. When they started or ended a segment each team was to initial the flag and then drive to the end of the front of the search line. He had to admit Brice was the perfect one to organize this operation.

He peered through the binoculars and slowly studied the terrain below, examining it for any sign of disturbance in the vegetation, a glimmer of light reflecting off of a piece of metal or glass.

Hank was relieved that he teamed up with Mike. Marco and Chet were further up the road scouring another segment. He knew he could have handled teaming up with Marco who was a bit more talkative than Mike. Marco seemed to have a natural sense when someone needed to talk and when they didn't. When it came to those he considered friends, Chet was a pretty solid on down guy. Chet tended to handle his stress or worries by acting out or with his off-beat attempts at humor. Chet tended to take longer to pick up the hint when someone didn't want to talk. Marco seemed to understand Chet the best and could sense what he was feeling under the Phantom's mask he tended to hide under. He wasn't too sure if he should have been the one to stay behind and wait for Joanne though, since he was her husband's captain. On the other hand, she knew Johnny better than him and from what Roy has said in the past around the station, Joanne knew how to keep Johnny in line. Perhaps it was best that Johnny be the one to support his best friend's wife through this ordeal.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the light squealing of the brakes from behind and assumed they were from his '69 Ford Galaxie Fastback and then the sound of a door closing and footsteps approaching him. He almost jumped out of his skin when he recognized the unmistakable deep, booming voice of Chief McConnike.

"Barberi said you were up this way."

Hank swallowed nervously before answering. "Good morning, Chief. What can I do for you?"

"I have a message you can pass onto Gage. I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing it from you rather than me."

He sensed Mike standing beside him and the uneasiness he felt whenever he crossed paths with his former Captain subsided, somewhat. "I'm not sure he's made it up here yet. He was waiting for Roy's wife to return from her mother's house."

"I worked out a deal with another paramedic who couldn't volunteer for the search 'cause his wife is expecting their first baby soon. He's agreed to fill in for Gage next shift and the shift after, if need be."

Hank and Mike exchanged glances between each other. "Uh sure, we'll be happy to pass that on to Gage," Hank said, and smiled nervously at the Chief.

"So who's filling in for Gage?" Mike asked.

"Billy Hanks. He did field training under Gage and DeSoto, didn't he?"

Hank smiled. "Sure did. That was during my first year at Station 51."

"Let Gage know that he can stay up here as long as Hanks' wife doesn't go into labor."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it…and so will Joanne DeSoto," Hank answered, thankful that he wouldn't have to drag a surly John Gage back to Los Angeles tomorrow evening.

"I thought headquarters was adamant on not granting leaves or time-off to hunt down DeSoto?" Mike questioned as he felt a nudge in his side from Hank's elbow.

"Hanks gave me a ring late yesterday afternoon. As much as he wanted to come up here and help out with the search on his days off, he didn't exactly want to leave his wife with her due date so close and all. Just one catch though..."

Hank and Mike sucked in their breaths as they waited to find out what the hitch might be.

Chief McConnike cleared his throat. "Anyways, to make a long story short, I worked it out with headquarters for Hanks to fill in on his days off for Gage. I'm sure Gage won't mind filling in for Hanks on his days off when Hanks' wife delivers, which hopefully is still a couple weeks away."

"Thanks! I'm sure Gage will readily agree to this arrangement," Hank said as he shook hands with his Chief.

"Say…ummm, Hank, I know Lopez and Kelly are hunkering down for the night in Kelly's van over at the campground near Red Rock Canyon with several others who brought tents and trailers. So are you and Stoker roughin' it tonight or did you arrange for more comfortable arrangements?"

"We rented a couple rooms at the motel just outside of Calabasas, near the beginning of the search route. What's the name of it, Mike?"

"Amico Motel."

Chief McConnike frowned. "Already checked there; it's booked up too. I guess I got up here a little too late. All the nearby hotels and motels are booked up. Seems a shame to have to drive back to L.A. tonight and drive back up in here in the morning."

Mike raised his eyebrows at Hank and knew they were both thinking the same thing. Hank gritted his teeth; he _knew_ what the Chief was hedging at. "Well, I suppose Stoker and I can double up and give you one of our rooms."

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you fellas to do that."

"It's no big deal for us to share a room, is it Mike?" Hank replied as Mike who gave him an ever so subtle dirty look.

Chief McConnike smiled. "Well I really appreciate your generosity, boys. It certainly will make it more convenient to stay up here. Chief Conrad and I will be taking over managing operations for Craig Brice while he's on shift tomorrow."

"Glad we could help you out, Chief," Mike said dryly.

"I'll catch up with you boys later. How 'bout I buy supper for you two tonight?" Chief McConnike offered as he headed back to his Oldsmobile sedan.

Hank forced his lips into an awkward smile as he gave the Chief a slight wave as his car pulled away and headed down the road. He turned towards Mike with an apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry Mike, but what else could I do? I couldn't give him something else to hold against me."

"Yeah, yeah…I know. He has it in for you. I just can't wait to hear the latest McConnike conspiracy theory running its way through your head right now." Mike shook his head in exasperation and rolled his eyes at his Captain. "By the way, you get to sleep on the floor if there's no couch in _MY_ room."

"Now wait a minute Mike. I outrank you."

"Rank is meaningless out here in no man's land. We're off duty, remember?"

* * *

><p>Roy could feel the softball-sized rock in his hand start to separate from the ground that held it in place. He fell face first into the dirt and tried vainly to grab onto anything that would stop his descent. He felt a branch slip through his closed hand, roughly scraping it. Jolts of pain radiated from his broken arm as he skimmed over rocks and other debris mixed in with the crumbling dirt. He managed to roll onto his back and tried digging his right heel into the ground in a futile effort to stop going downward. Something sharply grazed along the calf of his leg as he continued sliding to the bottom. His rollercoaster dirt ride finally stopped leaving him lying flat on his back near the bottom of the ravine. He groaned as he sat up coughing and sputtering dirt from his mouth within the middle of the dirt cloud surrounding him.<p>

His nostrils flared as he stood up, and a volcano of anger and frustration erupted inside of him over his failed attempt at rescuing himself. He didn't notice his right shoe was missing as he started hobble in the direction of his truck which wasn't too far way. A wild force now piloted him as he started snarling out obscenities and madly gesticulating while trudging through the brush and vegetation. The only thing he was feeling right now was pure, unmitigated rage. He slammed his fist several times on the hood of the wrecked truck.

A spark of sanity broke through the swirling crimson frenzy of primitive emotions. He leaned against the truck as his breath came in long heaving gasps. His body began to tremble as the tempest inside abated and handed him back his self-control. He made his way to the passenger door and dumped his body down onto the seat. The last time he had experienced what he referred to as 'going ape-shit crazy' or 'flipping his wig' was over in the battlefields of Vietnam. When a soldier lost control like that, it could potentially cost him his life. The residue of his rage had left him with a pounding headache, almost akin to a hangover. A shiver tiptoed down his spine as while he flexed his hand to make sure it didn't incur any damage during his conniption fit. He started rummaging through the glove box for the first aid items from the kit he had dumped in there a couple nights ago and placed them on the seat beside him. He couldn't remember if he'd suffered any additional injuries during his downward skid. He removed his jacket and tossed it out the door onto the ground. His right hand throbbed and that was the only thing he was feeling at the moment: the palm was scuffed up pretty good. Using his teeth, he opened the moist towelette and held it with the fingers of his left hand. The lemony-scented cloth stung as it came into contact with the abraded skin and he dabbed a little of the antibiotic ointment onto the wound. He used his knife to cut off some gauze from the roll to wrap his hand, using a couple of small band aids to tape it in place. The palm of his hand would be tender for a few days, so it was just a matter of keeping any dirt and irritants away from the raw skin.

He gazed down at the holes in the knees of his jeans. Taking the knife he sliced through the thick seams at the sides and underside letting the bottoms fall to the floor. It was then he saw and then felt the blood running down his right leg. _Had I kept my head squared away I would have had the common sense to find my shoe,_ he thought as he examined the gouge on his calf. _Shit, it may not need stitches, but it sure needs to be cleaned. _He glanced at the items on the seat and shook his head. He made use of the small towelette again to wipe away as much dirt and debris from the wound as possible. He felt drained from his ordeal and all he wanted to do was to stretch and rest. He knew he had to clean up his leg and he still had to check his arm. After being jostled around during his ride back down to the bottom of the ravine, he prayed that he wouldn't have to realign the broken bones again.

* * *

><p>Joanne pulled the blanket around her and tried to get comfortable. Everyone had decided to turn in early that night and try to get a good night's sleep before hitting the pavement again tomorrow. She could hear the nails of Fergie's paws grated lightly against the floor of the camper as he made his way towards her bed.<p>

"Alright, you can come up," she whispered softly as the tawny haired dog leaped up onto the bed and curled up against her.

Jim didn't have the heart to house Fergie in a kennel and had decided it was best to bring the dog along. Joanne lightly ran her hand along his side, thankful for the comfort he was providing her. She heard a door from outside slide close, accompanied by the closing of another door that she assumed was Johnny's Rover. Several members of the search party had joined them for supper earlier. The food was already prepared for them since many of the wives had sent along trays with their husbands. She had to force herself to eat something, aware she was under the watchful eye of her husband's coworkers. Knowing that Roy probably had gone days already without any sustenance made the guilt well up inside of her which caused everything to be tasteless.

She retreated into Jim and Harriett's camper just after sundown; everyone else had long since headed back to their own campsites for the night. She figured Johnny could use some guy time with Chet and Marco. She had spent the day hollering Roy's name over and over, as she and Johnny explored several segments mapped out along the road. Her face was slightly sunburnt, her nose and cheeks slightly ruddier than the rest of her face.

Jim had pulled out a baseball cap from one of the cupboards above her bed and handed it to her to wear for tomorrow. He grumbled about how easily both Roy and she freckled in the sun. She recognized the hat as one Roy used to wear when they were in middle school. His name was still visible underneath of the cap's bill. She had set it on shelf above her bed.

Harriett had made some honey-lemon tea for her after noticing the raspiness in her voice. Jim tried to start some small talk while the three of them sipped on the tea. She noticed that Harriett wasn't saying much, locked eyes with her mother-in-law and saw they were brimming with tears. She reached across the table and placed her hand over Harriett's and gave it a squeeze. No words were spoken, just the small gesture, the touch of each other's hand generated the consoling each of them needed from each other. Jim gave her shoulder a squeeze as he put the empty cups in the sink. She stood up and gave them both a hug before heading to the other side of the trailer to her bed. She could hear Jim and Harriett climbing into bed at the opposite end.

Joanne sat up and pushed the curtain away from the window and peered into the murky night sky. She was about to close the curtain when she spotted the first star of the night begin to flicker. When we were dating, we would park someplace secluded and scan the night sky for the first star. Whoever found it first made a wish. "I wish for your arms to be wrapped around me tight, be able to kiss you goodnight. I love you, Roy," she whispered blowing a kiss towards the sparkling light in the night.

Joanne could hear the muffled weeping from Harriett accompanied by Jim's soothing tones as she closed the curtain and pulled the covers around her. She couldn't make out any of the words from her father-in-law, but the tone was calmative in nature. _This ordeal is taking its toll on them too, not just me._ Sensing her distress, Fergie inched closer to her and nuzzled against her.

* * *

><p>Roy awoke to the sound of a coyote howling off in the distance. He had been drifting in and out of sleep since late afternoon and now let out a couple of coughs and sat up despite the protests of stiff back muscles. There was still a wad of restaurant napkins in the glove box and he used them to blow his nose and deposit the phlegm he had just coughed up. He had been hacking up a lot of the dust he had breathed in during his fall earlier in the day and coughed up more dirt-tinged mucus into the napkin before throwing it on the dash.<p>

He spent the better part of the afternoon tending to his leg. Remembering there was a dense, tangled patch of prickly pear cactus nearby, he had picked up his jacket from the ground along with the hubcap and headed towards it. Using his knife, he managed to cut away the outer layer of one paddle-shaped platyclades before digging out the mucilage and depositing some it into the hubcap while eating bits and piece of it. The inside of the pads were tastelessly moist and helped get rid of the dryness in his mouth. He continued to pick some of the burgundy-colored figs that grew from the top of some of the pads. Even though he had wrapped his hand in his jacket he still managed to get a few of the spines embedded into his hand and arm. The words _'why bother'_ kept chipping away at him the entire time he was harvesting the cactus.

Roy managed to carry everything the short distance back to the crash site, sat down beside the truck, and used the pulp of the cactus to clean the gouge on his calf. He knew the insides of the cactus was used by Indians and Mexicans for medicinal purposes. Marco had once referred to the fruit that grew from the top of the plant as 'tuna' and had brought several jars of jelly his mother had made from them. Roy rolled the fruit around on the ground to detach as many of the spines as possible, then he scraped their skins with his knife. Once he was satisfied that he had removed all of the hair-like spines from the fruit, he popped one into his mouth. The fruit surrounding the crunchy seeds had a sweet taste that reminded him of guava. Afterwards, he examined and tended to his arm, re-splinting and wrapping it back up. He finally let his exhaustion take over as he leaned back against the truck and let sleep claim him.

Now, he peered out of the window and noticed the night sky had a clear patch open up in it. He spotted a star glistening like a beacon to him.

"Joanne," he whispered.

He spotted a second. "Christopher."

A third. "Jennifer."

A pair. "Mom. Dad."

A cluster. "Johnny, Cap, Marco, Mike, Chet."

His gaze went back to the first one. "I love you, Joanne." He felt his resolve strengthen and renew itself. "I promise to make it back to you and the kids…everyone," he said softly. He knew the answer to the defeatist voice from earlier in the day who kept asking him_ 'why bother'_ – it was them.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**The seeds from the prickly pear fruit are not normally eaten, however, they are not harmful to eat. The fruit can be used to make juices, jams, and the occasional margarita. The nopales (pads) of the cactus can be treated much like a vegetable. They can be used in salads, stews, or chilies. The pulp from mature pads kills are known to have antibiotic properties **


	9. Chapter 9

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>Push a little harder<strong>

**Think a little deeper**

**Don't let the plastic**

**Bring you down**

**-Sly and the Family Stone, You Can Make It If You Try, 1969**

**Chapter 9**

Dixie handed over the patient chart to the nurse as she finished relaying the information on the patient in Treatment Room 4 to her. She was about to head towards the staff lounge when Bellingham and Brice walked up to the Nurse's Station. She gave them a waning smile as Brice handed a list of supplies to the Charge Nurse.

"Any leads on Roy yet?" she asked biting her bottom lip.

Bob crossed his arms across his chest. "Not a thing so far," he drawled as he scratched at his arm.

"Anything they need up there? I just finished my shift and have tomorrow off. I can run up some food or supplies; just point me to the person in charge."

"How many times do I have to tell you? _DON'T_ scratch mosquito bites; it makes them worse," Craig clenched his teeth and hissed at his partner. "You'll only end up succeeding in providing an entry route for pathogens if you keep ripping into your skin like that."

"Actually, many of us forgot to bring things like insect repellant and Solarcaine for sunburn," Craig said as he turned away from Dixie in mild embarrassments and muttered. "Myself included."

"It's impossible to think of everything considering how quickly things needed to be organized." Dixie's threw them a wide-eyed look. "Give me a list of items you think the search teams might need. This looks like something a few of us off-duty nurses can put together by the end of the morning."

"Now Dix, we know you just finished a midnight shift. Bad enough we're being cautioned 'bout burning the candle at both ends. We don't want Dr. Brackett coming down on the nurses here for doing the same thing," Bob said.

"It just so happens many of the staff around here would love to contribute any way they can. If we can't go up and search, then the least we could do is make sure those that are volunteering are being taken care of."

"What do we have here, a meeting of great minds?" Dr. Early quipped as he joined the trio at the counter.

Dixie slipped her arm around his and looked up to him with a sly smile on her face. "Hey Joe, you're not on duty anymore. How about taking a lady out to do her morning shopping?"

Dr. Early smiled down at her. "You're trying to talk me into something aren't you?"

"_AND_ I'm going to succeed too," she said, sweetly smiling up at him.

Dixie started to calculate the cost of the list of items Brice had handed her. "Solarcaine, aspirin, Bactine…Three, fifteen…cotton swabs, Band Aids…a dollar fifty…Insect repellant, Wet Ones, Caladryl…three thirty five…that's eight dollars of items per team."

"You forgot the cost of paper bags," Dr. Early added.

"Ummmm….how many of these kits do you think we need to make up?" Dixie frowned.

"I know we had around 45 teams yesterday," Brice answered. "Not sure of the exact number of teams today. We've had some men from Ventura County fire department join the search this morning. I'm guessing about fifty-five or sixty teams."

Dixie tapped a pencil against her lips and frowned. "Fifty kits would cost 400 dollars."

"I'll hit up Drs. Brackett and Morton to help me cover some of the costs?" Dr. Early said knowing his colleagues would feel slighted if he didn't ask them to contribute.

"I suppose some of the volunteers have some of these items on hand." Dixie tapped the eraser at the end of the pencil against her lips before looking pointedly at Brice and Bellingham. "Surely you two and many other firemen keep First Aid kits in your vehicles."

"Of course, we do." Craig emphasized the point by gesturing to Bellingham. "But you'd be surprised how many firefighters only have a rudimentary First Aid pouch in their vehicles or nothing at all."

"Okay, so for sure you don't normally keep Solarcaine, insect repellent, Caladryl, or wipes?" Dixie asked the two paramedics who nodded affirmatively. "Depending on how much Dr. Early can charm out of the other ER doctors, we can hand out just those items to those who have an adequate first aid kit. That would be five-O-five per bag."

Dr. Early smiled and gave Dixie's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "How about you round-up some recruits to help with the shopping and assembling the kits, while I go charm some cash out of the pockets of a couple of doctors around here?"

Bob smiled broadly at Dixie. "You really do have a way with…" The beeping of the handset interrupted him.

"Squad 16, woman with abdominal pain. 1675 Hickory Avenue. 1675 Hickory Avenue. Cross street Sonoma. Timeout 10:12."

"Squad 16, 10-4," Brice spoke into the HT.

* * *

><p>"So how's our woman with abdominal pain doing," Bellingham snickered at his partner.<p>

"Fine, she didn't burst a hemorrhoid and the tearing is mild." Brice answered threw him a dirty look as they headed towards the conference room. "You really need to maintain your conduct at the scene, Bellingham. Next time we get a run like that you'll be the one riding in the ambulance."

"Yes, Brice, you're the Emily Post of paramedics." Bellingham let out a snort of amusement and bit down on his lip to keep from letting loose a fit of uproarious laughter. He had made Brice ride in with the woman after almost losing his self-control at the scene. "Yep, all that hard labor and only a ten pound turd to show for it."

They had arrived at the residence and knocked on the door. They could hear a woman screeching from inside the house to come in. They made their way down the hallway to find the patient was in the bathroom with the door locked. They weren't sure if she was unable or refusing to open it. When Bellingham told her they were going to pop the door open, she forbade them. They spent the next fifteen minutes trying to convince the woman to allow them into the bathroom. In between her grunts and moans of discomfort they heard through the door, she demanded that the paramedics slip something under the door for her pain.

"Ma'am the only thing we're authorized to do is slip a MICU form under the door. We're prohibited from dispensing any medications without a doctor's approval. You either give us permission to enter or we'll have to make ourselves available for a real emergency," Brice rationally explained to the woman.

It was at that moment they heard the flush of a toilet followed by a gurgling sound as it backed up. The door opened and a teary-eyed middle-aged woman emerged and pointed to the toilet. "It ripped me open and now I can't even flush it down the toilet," she cried as she shuffled out of the bathroom.

Craig's expression remained stoic as he began to assess the woman. "What ripped you open ma'am?" he asked while Bob tepidly peered into the toilet on the verge of overflowing.

"I've been constipated for the last five days and today…," she sniffled as gas rumbled through her bowls. "That was worse than giving birth to my first-born. My ass feels like it's on fire."

Bob had to turn away to keep from breaking up. Dr. Brackett advised nothing for pain until he could assess the tearing and bleeding around her rectal area. He suggested that Craig ride in with her once Rampart had told them to bring her on in. Once the ambulance had pulled away, Bob broke out into bouts of laughter that continued until he was almost finished packing the equipment away.

Now, that they were released from their last run, Bob called them in as being available from Rampart as he and Brice walked into the conference room.

Dixie and Early, along with a few off-duty nurses, had just finished arranging the items around the long table. .The two paramedics joined the group and began to put an item in each bag before passing the bag to the next person in the line. Brice was a little flabbergasted at how fast Dixie was able to gather the items and put together a crew to package the items.

"How'd you manage to get everything together in less than an hour and a half?" Brice questioned.

"Never underestimate the power of a head nurse," Dixie smiled. "Actually, when I called on volunteers, I had them stop by a store on their way in to buy specific items. Carol stopped by two stores to get enough insect repellent, Betty bought the antibiotic spray, Kim picked up the wipes and bandages. Dr. Early and I got the rest of the items and we reimbursed everyone for the cost once they arrived here."

"I was able to collect enough money from the ER doctors and staff that we were able to cover more than all the cost," Dr. Early added.

In less than an hour they had almost completed the kits for the volunteers. Dr. Brackett entered the room carrying a box of medical samples. "I raided some of the samples the drug companies give us. This pretty much is available over the counter stuff. Various brands of acetaminophen, antibiotic ointments, stuff like that," he said as he placed the box on the table.

"I heard you did a bang-up job setting up everything for the search," Dr. Brackett addressed Brice.

"He sure did. It took two battalion chiefs to fill his shoes so he could return to duty today." Bellingham stated with a proud-as-a-peacock look on his face.

"I ran into a couple paramedics as I was coming in this morning. They were pretty much said the same thing about how you pulled all this together and had the search ready to start at the crack of dawn yesterday morning." Kim added.

Dixie gave Kim an appreciative smile. She knew the young nurse had developed a crush on Brice and was normally too shy to manage more than a 'Hello' most days towards him.

Craig Brice used his index finger to push his glasses upwards as he looked downwards; uncomfortable with receiving praise for being so organized. He was rather more accustomed to hearing about the usual complaints over his anal systematization skills. "Chiefs Conrad and McConnike are better suited for knowing how to properly allocate manpower."

"Don't sell yourself short, buddy. You did all the hard work stuff. All they have to do is follow what you laid out." Bob gave Brice a sound clap on the back before handing him a box. "Here, take this out to Dixie's station wagon."

"Well, I guess we might as well help carry these out," Carol said to the other two nurses as each of them grabbed a box and headed out of the conference room.

"You know, in many ways, I can't help but think of how much alike Brice and Bellingham are to DeSoto and Gage," Dr. Early mused.

Brackett lowered his eyebrows. "I don't know if I agree with that assessment, Joe. I would have placed bets that the two of them would _NEVER_ have lasted two weeks and they've lasted almost two years now."

"Actually in a way Joe's right. I mean Bob's laid back like Roy and Brice can get very fixated on rules and order. Obsessing is also something Johnny has a habit of doing," Dixie said.

"Hmmmm, perhaps," Dr. Brackett mulled. He never thought of that commonality between Gage and Brice. It was possible he never noticed it because of the extreme variances in each man's personality. Brice presented a more calmly mannered personality, whereas Gage was more flamboyant and erratic with his expressions.

"Johnny just has a flavor-of-the-day type mania. Anything from a new nurse to something totally bizarre," Joe added. "Which keeps us all on our toes. Only difference between the two is Johnny tends to be more verbose."

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels as he looked directly at Dr. Early. "Are you accompanying Dix on her little day trip?"

"It kinda looks that way," Dr. Early answered.

"Listen, I ran into the Dwyer and Barberi from Station 51. I inquired about the search and how everyone was holding up. Anyways, Barberi mentioned to me that Roy's parents were having a bit of an argument over his father cancelling his appointment with his cardiologist. Think maybe you could make a house call while you're up there."

"I can give him a cursory exam, but without his history I can only strongly recommend he touch base with his doctor. I mean, I think we can understand his predicament; he's worried and doesn't want to feel like he's placing his needs over his son's."

"Yeah and we both know stress can have a negative effect on heart patients."

"You can grab your little black bag on the way out," Dixie nudged Dr. Early.

"Can I go to my apartment first and squeeze in a shower and change of clothes before we head up," Dr. Early requested.

Dixie gave an exaggerated sniff in his direction. "Make it quick, buster. Your chariot will arrive to pick you up in about half an hour."

Carrying the last of the boxes, the three of them walked into the hall towards the exit.

* * *

><p>Dixie and Dr. Early turned off of Mulholland Highway and were now heading southward down Stunt Road, having just dropped off a few of the boxes with the Ventura County firefighters who were working the Old Topanga Canyon Road. Dixie did a couple of short beeps on the horn as she passed by any search volunteers to show her support. They had several miles to go before the road crossed Saddle Peak and Scheuren Roads at the lookout point when they recognized Johnny's white Rover pulled off on the side of the road. Dixie gave a couple of quick taps on the horn as she neared the two figures scouting the several feet in front of the vehicle. She parked her station wagon to the side of the road just behind them.<p>

"So…ummm…aren't you ruining your swinging bachelor image driving around in a station wagon instead of that sporty '60 Horizon Blue 'vette," Johnny teased Dr. Early as he walked towards the pair.

"I thought I'd sssslluUUUUmmmm…," Dr. Early started to say as Dixie interrupted him with a hard jab to his midsection with her elbow. "Let me start over again. When you're driving around with an articulate and beautiful woman, the car doesn't matter. Besides her-er umm…classy set of wheels has more storage space."

Dixie gave him a self-satisfied smile as she draped an arm over Joanne's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hey Jo, how you holding up?"

"I'm hangin' in there," Joanne muttered as she dropped her head letting the bill of Roy's baseball cap cast a shadow over her face. "Trying to keep optimistic about things, you know…"

"Well there's over a hundred people out here scouring the hillsides for him. Something's gotta turn up soon," Dixie reassured her.

"I just wish soon was now," Joanne said solemnly.

Dixie's mouth formed a thin line as she tightened her arm around the younger woman. "Yeah, me too."

Johnny decided it was time to change the direction of the conversation. "So what brings you two up this way?"

"We heard that many of you were having a battle with some of the insects in this area so we decided to provide you some ammo against their attacks," Dr. Early quipped as he opened the back door of Dixie's wagon. He watched in amusement as Johnny made a clumsy and fumbled catch of the bag he tossed his way.

"Huh-heyyyyy, we have some bug spray, and some other goodies." Johnny's smile turned into a frown. "Wait a second…Where's the pepperoni sticks? Awww…man, there's nothing to eat in here."

"Always thinking about your stomach," Dixie scolded him as he grinned mischievously back at her.

Dr. Early grabbed a small tube from the box Dr. Brackett had given them and handed it to Dixie. "This works great on sunburns and should minimize any peeling."

Joanne let Dixie dab some of the ointment on her red nose. "Thanks," she muttered as she slipped the cream into the front pocket of her jeans.

"Well Dix, we have one more stop to make and I have to pay your stubborn father-in-law a wellness visit," Dr. Early said as he held the driver's door open for Dixie.

"I know Roy's mom is pretty upset." Joanne gave him a grateful look. "We're both concerned about how all everything is affecting his dad, but I also think she's nitpicking at him as her way of coping with what's going on with Roy."

"Maybe Dixie can help her find a more positive way to deal with things. I'm sure things will check out fine with his father. Maybe I can convince him to have Johnny monitor him once or twice a day. That should put everyone's minds at ease," Dr. Early said through the open car window as Dixie slowly drove away. She tapped out a couple of toots as she headed towards the Saddle Peak lookout point.

* * *

><p>Roy continued to forage for food while contemplating what his next step should be. Yesterday's attempt at rescuing himself only succeeded in depleting his strength and adding some additional injuries. The sun had just started to wink along the mountain's horizon when he awoke this morning. His body felt like it was encased in cement as he first started to move around while his muscles screamed at him as he collected the morning dew for his water. It was now several hours later and his body had loosened up a little.<p>

Roy had spent the rest of the morning tending his wounds. He checked out his face in one of the side mirrors he had removed from the truck. The only thing he recognized was the bleary blue eyes that stared back at him. The face was framed by matted, russet colored hair that stuck out like the straw that always managed to escape from underneath a scarecrow's hat. His normally fair complexion was now marred by the ruddiness of sunburn, the skin peeling off his nose, numerous bites, scratches, and reddish-brown bristles covered the lower half of his face. He barely recognized the image the mirror reflected back. It bore more of a resemblance to Cro-Magnon than Roy DeSoto. He seldom went more than a day or two without shaving; beards were against job regulations plus Joanne and Jenny tended to complain about him having 'picky-face.' _Gawds,_ _I look like_ _Dr. Zaius, except he's more debonaire and probably smells better too._

He had noticed some smears of blood on the inside of his jacket this morning when he picked it up off the ground. Using the two side mirrors he had removed from the truck, he was able to partially examine his dirt-streaked back and found some scrapes that had already scabbed over along with numerous bug bites dotted liberally across sunburnt skin_. Funny, it's just like in Vietnam. You get to the point where you don't feel 'em picking and nipping on your skin. You become used to being their food source._

His leg wound had re-opened and he used some more of the pulp from the prickly pear on it. He stuffed the remainder of the pulp into his mouth. "Not only can it help disinfect a wound, it's also makes a great snack," he snorted out loud. He let out a couple of coughs, hoping he was coming down with a summer cold and nothing more serious. He knew some of the congestion in his lungs was caused from the dust and dirt he had breathed in yesterday.

He contemplated his next move to get out of the mess he was in. He tried to shake the feeling of discouragement and failure that yesterday had left him with. His only option was to perhaps try walking and if he was lucky enough, he might come across a hiking trail. He foraged around, eating what edible plants he could find and occasionally finding a winged source of protein come into his grasp. Roy stopped picking the berries from the manzanita tree for a moment. He wasn't sure if his senses were playing tricks on him. He remained still, closed his eyes as he tried to focus on his hearing - the noise was faint and obviously a good distance away. He sat silently for a while, hoping what he heard was real and not his imagination or wishful thinking playing tricks on him. There it was again, a couple short blips of a car horn; he was sure of it.

He knew it was a long shot since the direction of the sound he heard was carried downwind to him. _DAMMIT! I am so used to the Porsche needing to be running before I can use the horn. _

He got up and hobbled towards the truck. Slipping behind the driver's wheel he held down on the horn and gave it a long blast, followed ten seconds later by another, and finally a third. His ears were ringing from the noise as he slid over to the passenger side and listened, craving a response. He waited several minutes and was about to skirt back over to the steering wheel when he heard a couple short beeps.

He honked out another set of three long beeps from his horn, waited a several minutes and sounded out a second SOS call_. _

_Is it possible people ARE driving along the road looking for me and not wishful thinking on my part?_

He knew if anyone was searching downwind from his location there was a chance they might hear him. He'd wait an hour and try signaling again.

* * *

><p>Dr. Early put the blood pressure cuff back into his bag as Jim rolled down his sleeve. "Your blood pressure is within normal range," he said quietly. "I still recommend checking in with your doctor. He's more attuned to you and your medical history."<p>

"I just don't feel right running back to the city. Not without knowing what's happened to my son," Jim stated.

"I understand that. How about when the gals get back, we head to the nearest payphone and check in with your doctor?" Dr. Early suggested. "I'll even spring for the dime."

"What if something comes through on the radio?" Jim said.

"If something does, I'm sure one of the volunteers will flag us down. It's not like we're going to Timbuktu. We'll be back here in less than half an hour," Dr. Early reasoned.

"I suppose it won't hurt to do that. It will probably get Harriett to stop fussing over me," Jim agreed as he scratched Fergie underneath his chin.

"Look at it this way, Jim. Your wife is concerned that you take care of yourself. Even in this difficult situation. The last thing your son needs is for you to get sick."

Jim looked down at the dog. "It's been almost five days and…I know you can't survive more than around few days without water."

"There's a lot of factors to consider." Dr. Early tried to be evasive. "It's not unheard of for someone to survive more than five days without water. I heard of a case where a 69-year-old earthquake victim survived a week trapped in the rubble of a building without any access to any fluids."

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. "So there still could be some hope, but let's both be honest here, he may have already run out of time."

Dr. Early looked down at his shoes. "I'm sure if Roy is alive, he's probably found a way to get fluids into his body." He lifted his head and looked directly at Jim, rubbing his hands together as he continued. "If Roy's familiar with some of the plants in the area, some of them would help keep him hydrated; perhaps long enough for him to be found."

"I guess that's what we have to hang our hope on." Fergie began to paw at Jim's leg. "Looks like someone needs to go out, huh?" Jim said to the dog.

Dr. Early followed Jim and the dog out of the trailer. "You know it probably would do you both some good to maybe do a little more walking around. It'd help keep your stress levels down."

"I should be within hearing distance of the radio, just in case," Jim answered back as he watched Fergie go into the bushes. "The hardest thing about this is the not knowing part. Whether he's alive or…," Jim swallowed hard not wanting to voice out the worst, "he's lying hurt somewhere unable to get help."

Dr. Early put a comforting hand on his shoulder in place of the right words he knew he lacked in this situation. Roy and Johnny were more than paramedics to him; he considered them part of his circle of friends. Roy was the first paramedic he had developed a friendship with when the program first got started. He was amazed by the enthusiasm and encouragement Roy brought to the first class out of Rampart and the positive impact it had on them, especially Johnny. The two had formed a friendship by the time the class. He hoped that the determination Roy exhibited in helping promote the program among the other firefighters would keep him alive long enough to be found.

* * *

><p>At some point the truck's battery run out of juice, rendering the horn useless. Realistically, Roy knew someone needed to be less than a mile radius from him in order to hear it. Several hours had passed since he first thought he heard a car honking. He looked up at the sun in the sky and judged the time around late afternoon. Sunset would start in another hour or so it. All along he'd been thinking he needed to get out of this mess on his own. There weren't many options left; he was growing physically weaker by the day. Maybe relying on himself to get out of this mess was the wrong approach; he needed to find a way to lead someone to him if he had any hopes of being rescued.<p>

_At any rate, maybe I need to think of a way to create a signal visible enough to bring people to me._ _I can use the knife to remove the yellow reflectors from the car and hang them from the trees, maybe some of the chrome…too time consuming. Fire, but I have nothing to start with and I need to keep it under control. It wouldn't look too good if a fireman set the Santa Monica Mountains ablaze._

He stared at the ashtray at the base of the dashboard. Since he didn't smoke, it served more as a repository for loose change instead of ashes and butts. He had removed the cigarette lighter and the temptation it could provide to children long ago. He recalled several nasty finger burns involving children playing with these lighters during his years as a paramedic. The bile rose in the back of his throat as a vision of four circular burn marks on a woman's thigh flashed into his mind. It was from a run six months ago and he vividly remembered the burns inflicted on the victim from her car lighter after being assaulted by the young, nice looking, male hitchhiker she had picked up. Even in his current predicament, he didn't regret disposing of the vehicle's lighter long ago.

_WHAT can I use to start a fire? Friction? No, next to impossible with only one good arm. Rounded piece of glass? Maybe the headlight…wait the reflector from the headlight…take me a while to get to it…FLASHLIGHT! PERFECT! I can easily remove the reflector from it. Kindling…what can I use for kindling? I still have napkins left. Joanne, I will never complain about you stuffing my glove box with restaurant napkins ever again. Black smoke. Think Roy, think…what's on hand that produces black smoke?_

His mind quickly raced through a list of items that would produce the dark plumes that would draw attention to his location.

_Plastics, rubber…tires…no way I can get those off with no jack and one good arm…rubber…belts, hoses from the engine…oil. Interior, plenty of stuff like the vinyl from the seats will burn black smoke._

He looked down at the floor and grabbed the floor mats and tossed them outside of the truck. His determination and resolve renewed itself as he began ripping and cutting into the interior of the truck, tossing the chunks on top of the floor mats. He'd gather what he could for the fire with what the remaining sunlight would allow him to. He'd leave the bench seat intact for now.

Tomorrow morning, after the fog lifted he'd work at setting up an area for a fire. If there was a search party out there looking for him, then a smoke signal would be the perfect thing to draw them to him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

**1976 Prices for the following items:**

**Solarcaine 4oz spray $1.69**

**Bottle of 100 tablets of Bayer aspirin $0.77**

**Bactine $0.69**

**Tin of Band Aids $0.59**

**Cotton swabs (400) $0.88**

**Caladryl $0.99**

**Wet Ones (100) $0.88**

**Cutter insect repellant $1.49**


	10. Chapter 10

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>What we do not see, what most of us never suspect of existing, is the silent but irresistible power which comes to the rescue of those who fight on in the face of discouragement."<strong>

**-Napoleon Hill (1883-1970)**

**Chapter 10**

Craig Brice turned off the radio, but much to his annoyance Bob Bellingham continued singing snatches of the song that had played in his own off-key vocals.

"Bob, you'll be sorry if you make me pull over to the side of the road," he sighed deeply. "You'd think we were on our way to a shindig the way you're acting.

"What? You expect me to brood all the way there?"

"Do you ever wonder if others may interpret your lackadaisical attitude as being callous?"

"Mmmmm…you think I don't give a rat's ass about finding DeSoto?"

"_I know_ you do care, but don't you ever worry that others may consider your behavior obtuse?"

Bob mulled over Brice's last statement a moment before answering. "No, I don't really worry much about that. People who know me, know deep-down I take things very seriously. I've just learned that a lighthearted approach tends to ease those around me. The best thing to do in any volatile situation is to stay calm and level-headed."

"You may have a point there. I know my approach leaves everyone thinking I'm phlegmatic."

"Well unfortunately you do come across that way at times? _BUT,_ I have noticed over the last year, you've lost some of that _super-cil-ious-ness._" Bob cocked an eyebrow at his partner who grinned impressively at his use of verbosity.

"I see you're becoming quite the sesquipedalian," Craig replied back before throwing Bob a sly grin. "I didn't know you changed your bathroom reading material from 'Wheels and Gears' to a dictionary."

"Hanging around you, I've learned to expand my vocabulary to include polysyllabic words."

"Who ever said you can't teach 'The Animal' new tricks?"

"Or it's impossible to get the 'Walking Rule Book' to pull the cork out of his ass every once in a while?"

"How much longer 'til we get there?" Bob asked as they turned off Pacific Coast Highway onto South Topanga Canyon Blvd.

"Another forty minutes."

"Uuughhhh, PHewwwwwWWWWWW," Bob yelled out as he hurriedly rolled down his window. "You could've warned me first."

"I refuse to have shitty ideas traveling up to my brain," Craig said with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Augggghhhh…silent and deadly….you don't even give a warning signal. A skunk at least lifts up its tail before it sprays."

"You're just jealous because you let out a sonic boom first, which gives me enough time to roll down the window or leave the room."

"Well buddy, feel free to put that cork back in anytime. Man, that's nasty."

* * *

><p>Roy wrapped his right arm around the old dried out branch and lugged it out near the dried creek bed. Yesterday, he had spent the latter part of the afternoon using his knife to cut though belts and plastic materials from the car. This morning he was piling them up in preparation of creating a fire in the hopes of drawing someone's attention to this spot. In another hour the sun would have burned off most of the fog. Each day down here had left his body more depleted than the last, especially since his failed attempt to scale up the side of the ravine. He dropped the branch on the pile as a coughing fit overtook him. The congestion that had built up in his chest over the last couple of days was noticeably heavier this morning. He was up half the night hacking up phlegm in between bouts of sleep plagued by some rather vividly disturbing dreams.<p>

The dregs of one particular dream kept playing, rewinding, and re-playing in his head even though he had been awake for a few hours now. It was one where he was standing in front of the house he had lived at in Norwalk which was the only thing recognizable to him on the street. The empty lot he used to play in wasn't there. In its place was a large skyscraper and the houses lining the street weren't the same houses that he remembered, the only thing that looked familiar was his parent's old house. He ran up the street in the direction where Joanne's childhood home should have been. His instinct told him she would be there, compelling him to go in that direction.

He wasn't sure how far he had gotten when the street was abruptly blocked by a tall wire-mesh fence. He could see Joanne and their children waving to him, beckoning him to join them on the front lawn of her old house. He started to climb over the fence and was on his way down the other side. Joanne was playing with the kids as they called out for him to hurry over to them. He started to climb down and it was then that fence's wire seemed to turn into almost a sticky spider web-like steel. He slipped out of his shoes which were stuck to the fence and dangled by his hands. He was willing to chance falling the rest of the way to the ground. He managed to free one hand and knew it would be a few moments before the force of gravity and the weight of his entire body would free his other. The street went dark as soon as his feet hit the ground. Joanne and the kids were no longer within his sight.

The panic rose inside of him, he had to find the house with the lights on. Stumbling in his stocking feet, he started to run in between the two lines of dark and deserted houses. Gone was the nice suburbia he had seen from the other side of the fence, replaced by neglected houses long ago abandoned. He could smell the fetid water that ran along the sides of the street and the putrid smell of decay filled his nostrils. He ran up the street hearing his feet slapping against the wet asphalt. He side-stepped around the potholes that threatened to swallow up anything foolish enough break through their murky surface. Finally, he saw the light from a window and he pushed himself to run faster, until finally he made it to the walkway. It was his home, their home. He stepped up on the cement walkway and felt his foot sink into the cement. He kept plowing his way to the house, to the porch light that beckoned him, but he kept sinking deeper and deeper with each step. The cement began to harden as the door flew open. It was then Roy had awakened, never finding out if it was Joanne or something else, perhaps sinister that had opened the front door of his house. He was more afraid of the latter being the conclusion of his nightmare.

He surmised last night's phantasmal images were due to the lack of adequate fuel deprived body and the lack of human interaction that left him famished for contact. The absence of interaction with another hominine tended to impoverish one's mind and soul; the ears deprived of the laughter of family and friends, the eyes unable gaze on the smiling face of a friend, the skin craving the touch of another, the smell of one's habitat, and the unsatisfied hunger for a taste of your lover's lips. The imprisoning solitude coupled with the yearning for the fellowship of family and close friends was disparaging to his spirit.

Roy spat out the wad of mucus to the ground that he had just coughed up before gathering some wood shavings, bark, twigs and broken-up dried out branches. Using a swatch of denim cut off from his jeans, he threaded it through the hole in the reflector of the flashlight. He pointed the reflector towards the sun and directed the light to the end of the material that bulged out from where the light bulb once was. He watched the material slowly start to smoke and his eyes widened as the first flicker of a flame appeared. Leaning over the pile of kindling, he gingerly removed the burning cloth from the reflector and placed it at the base. He blew on the flame until he coaxed it to transfer itself to the kindling as he proceeded to arrange some larger twigs around it to build the fire up, finally adding some larger and thicker branches to get the fire going. Once the fire was going he added some rubber strips he had cut up from one of the truck's floor mats. He backed away from the fire as it began to emit dark, acrid smoke.

"Black smoke, no pope," he chuckled out loud as he watched the plume snake its way upwards.

He moved back from the fire and smoke and hoisted himself upright with a thick branch that served as a walking stick. He was going to need more fresh leafy branches to put on top of the fire to produce lots of smoke. He hobbled over to the underbrush and began breaking off branches from the nearby bushes and small trees.

* * *

><p>"Is it just me, or do you think this lead will be another dead-end?" Sam Sterling sighed.<p>

"We'll find out in soon enough after we talk to that gas station attendant," Lieutenant Ron Crockett answered, pulling his car into the gas station. He ran over a thin, black pneumatic hose as he pulled up beside the gas pump. A loud 'ding-ding' caused the attendant inside the station to look their way as he walked out of the station towards the pumps.

"What can I get for ya?" He smiled as he leaned towards the open car window.

"Are you Carl Hollinger?" Lt. Crockett asked as he held up his badge.

"Yessir," the attendant nodded carefully.

Lt. Crockett stepped out of the car and pulled out his note pad. "You called in a tip claiming to have seen a man on late in the afternoon on Tuesday matching the description of a Mr. Roy DeSoto." He asked as he held up a photo for the man to look at.

"Yeah, his hair was a bit longer than in this picture, but I'm sure it was him. He was driving a 1970 dark blue Dart Swinger."

"Did you happen to get the license number or remember anything about it?"

"The plates were from Nevada. Definitely wasn't the woman from the paper with him either."

"He wasn't alone?" Lt. Crockett questioned.

"There was a female passenger with him. Pretty…Blond."

"What kind of blond? Dark, light? Short or long hair?"

"Very light blonde and short hair…one of those pixie haircuts."

"Did you get a good look at her? Eye color, anything distinguishing about her?"

"Blue eyes, a little heavy on the makeup. Greyish colored dress, tight fitting. Other than being skinny as a rail, there really wasn't anything that stood out about her."

"Did they say anything that might indicate where they were headed?"

"Yeah, he stepped out of the car to grab a pop outta the machine and she told him to hurry up. She wanted to stop by her sister's place in Barstow. He grumbled something about it being past midnight by the time they got to Vegas."

"Anything else you remember?" Det. Sterling asked.

"Nope, came in, got gas, grabbed a soda from the machine, and left."

"What about their demeanor?" Sterling pressed.

"Whadda ya' mean?"

"You know," Lt. Crockett added as he gestured towards the attendant with his hand. "Did they seem upset, in a hurry, running away from something, anxious, anything like that?"

"Well he seemed a bit in a hurry to get to Vegas. Probably worried she'd change her mind 'bout marrying him."

"Why makes you think they were getting married?" Det. Sterling asked.

"There was a bridal gown in the back seat."

"So ah, why do you think she was having second thoughts about marrying him?" Det. Crockett asked as he stopped writing in his note-pad.

"Like most short men, he was bossy."

Det. Sterling and Crockett looked at each other. "Short? How tall do you think he was?"

"'Bout 5' 6", maybe 5' 7"."

"Well thank you for your time sir," Lieutenant Crockett said to the gas station attendant as he clicked his pen before shoving it in the pocket of his sports jacket along with his note pad. "I think we've got all the answers we need for now. Thanks for all your help."

"No problem. Anytime," the attendant answered.

Lt. Crockett smiled broadly. "Greatly appreciated. Thanks."

Lt. Crockett opened the driver's door of his car as Det. Sterling walked over to the passenger side of the car and got in. The attendant waved at them as they drove away. Det. Sterling gave a slight wave back. They pulled out on Mulholland Hwy and headed towards the Stunt Road turnoff.

"Well that turned out to be a waste of our time. What's DeSoto? 6' 1" or 6' 2"?" Lt. Crockett asked his partner.

"6' 1" according to the description here."

"It's just frustrating…I mean… the guy honestly thought this was DeSoto and was genuinely trying to be helpful," Lt. Crockett shook his head in disappointment.

"Look at the bright side. We got out of the office for a bit. If I had to answer one more call from some psychic-sleuth claiming that DeSoto and the Loaring woman were in Nevada getting Reno-vated I may have committed hara-kiri," Sam Sterling teased.

"Gotta love all the wannabe detectives and screwballs that crawl out of the woodwork in cases like this," Crockett replied. "My gut tells me the two of them don't know each other. Unfortunately, in both cases there really isn't much to go on."

"The volunteer search parties haven't found anything so far," Sterling mused. "It's like they both disappeared into thin air."

"We both know people just don't vanish into thin air," Lt. Crockett sighed in frustration. "I think we'll swing by and let DeSoto's wife know that we're planning on sending out search copters to comb the area tomorrow."

"His parents are running a command post at Saddle Peak lookout point."

"We'll head down Stunt Road. Gage drives a white Land Rover so keep an eye out for it."

* * *

><p>Roy used his good arm and his weight to pull down the leafy green branch of the small willow tree. He finally heard it snap as it gave way and using his knife, he managed to cut through the remainder of the branch. He tossed it on the ground beside him and started pulling on another branch. He was cutting through the broken portion of a second branch when he felt a couple of pin-prick sensations; one on his shoulder and the other on his chest. It wasn't until he tossed the branch to the ground and heard the fricative sound of an angry horde that he realized he had disturbed a nest of paper wasps. The insects began to swarm and sting him on multiple parts of his body. He stumbled out of the area waving his hands around his head and face for protection. He kept moving as the small swarm seemed to follow him. He could feel the fiery needles of pain on his thighs as some of the insects managed to get under the material of his cut-offs. He wasn't sure how long he had been stumbling around before finally stopping and realizing the angry, droning noise was gone.<p>

"Shit, son-of-a-f-fah…," he yowled as he felt a couple stingers knife into the scrotal area. He quickly stripped off his shorts and boxers and shook them out before the final attacker flew away.

He stumbled towards his ravine habitat before finally putting his boxers and the remnants of his jeans back on. He didn't bother doing them up as he allowed himself to crumple to the ground. His one eye was already starting to swell shut while his top lip painfully stretched to the point where he thought it would split. His ears felt like they were on fire and the swelling started to muffle his hearing a bit. He could feel the prickly hot itchiness beginning on his legs, arms, and torso. He laid down on his side and curled up; giving in to the darkness was the only refuge from the torment that was consuming his body.

Roy wasn't sure how long he had been out when he opened one eye and looked over at the fire and saw that it was losing its life due to lack of fuel. He watched the last flame turn to a glowing ember as it finished its dance and faded. He hated being at the total mercy of Mother Nature for she kowtowed for no man; she was truly the original femme fatale. She had dangled enough water and food to keep him alive, but she also seemed merciless, almost punishing him for wanting to escape the solitude of her wilderness.

"Damn bitch," he muttered allowed himself to drift back to the insentient darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>"Bob, will you leave the radio off. We'll be at our search area in a few minutes."<p>

Craig batted Bob's hands away from the radio.

"What's a matter? Don't you like music?" Bob said dejectedly as slumped into the passenger seat of Craig's Suburban.

Craig rolled his eyes. "What you listen to doesn't really fall under any musical category that I know of."

"Please tell me, what do you consider music? Classical?" Bob snorted. "We've been partners two years and I have no idea what kind of music you like."

"Actually, I'm more into the mellow stuff like Seals and Croft, Bread, Loggins and Messina, and a little Dr. Hook, and John Denver."

"I guess that means you don't own a pair of boogie shoes," Bob said drolly.

"That's not music; it's a fad."

"I'm not big on disco, but ya' hafta admit some of its catchy." Bob smiled. "Are you into dares?"

"No. Most dares are stupid." Craig was starting to become annoyed.

"That's too bad. I was going to dare you to serenade that cute nurse at Rampart who seems rather fond of you."

"No nurse at Rampart is fond of me," Craig countered back. "They're all looking for dashing and charming…like Gage."

"Mmmmm, I can't believe you haven't noticed how Kim seems to light up around you. I heard she turned down Gage."

"Really?" Craig answered, almost sounding interested.

"Really," Bob confirmed. "You should walk up to her and strike up a little dialog."

"Sure, Bob, and what do I tell her?" Craig asked. "There's not much I can say or do that will make me resplendent in her eyes."

"Craig's just a love machine, bub ba ba dub da dub, He's just a love machine, a rule-book-loving fiend," Bob sang.

Craig rolled his eyes, regretting even getting into this current discussion with his partner. "Not only can't you sing, but I'm not even sure that even qualifies as music."

"Hey, Craig, pull over."

"For crying out loud Bob! I told you to go before we left!"

"I'm serious, pull over," Bob said more forcibly as he reached behind him to grab a knapsack. "Look over to your left. It looks like smoke."

Bob pulled out the binoculars from the pack as Craig pulled the Suburban to the side of the road. Bob jumped out and peered through the binoculars at the column of smoke weaving its way upwards from a distance. "It looks like it's coming from down in the ravine right where the road snakes several times."

Craig took the binoculars from Bob and looked through them. "Grab the walkie-talkie and call it in. We'll head out there and start looking around. Could be a car gone into the ravine."

"This is Search Team 18. We've spotted some smoke coming out of the ravine," Bob said into the radio. He waited a moment for the radio operator to acknowledge him.

* * *

><p>Jim looked over at Harriett as they both heard the voice come over the radio. Other than routine check-ins, there had been no calls over the last three days. Jim had to step over Fergie as he scrambled for the CB radio and quickly acknowledged the transmission. "This is the Saddle Peak Command Post. Go ahead Team 18."<p>

"We spotted a narrow plume of black smoke about 3 miles east of where we're at. We're just about ten miles down the road from your command post."

Jim quickly jotted down the information. "Do you need a second team to aid you?"

"Affirmative. We're not at the scene yet. We suspect it could be a vehicle that went off the road."

The radio fell silent for a moment as Jim waited anxiously for Team 18 to say something. A moment later the voice came back on the radio. "The smoke has stopped, but we have a pretty good idea the general area it was in."

"I'll send Search Team 17 to help you out. Any equipment you need dispatched to your locale?"

"We're good. We have rappelling equipment in our vehicle. Tell Search Team 17 to look for a series of three curves in the road and to keep an eye out for any signs that might indicate a vehicle went off the road."

"Roger that, keep us posted, 18."

"Do you think it's possible…?" Harriett started to say before Jim hushed her.

"You heard him say he thinks it's a car accident. Give me a minute to raise the other search team to help them."

"Search Team 17, this is the Stunt Road Command Post."

A few moments later a male voice came over the radio. "Search Team 17, go ahead command post."

"Search Team 18 requests some assistance further up the road. They spotted some smoke and believe it warrants investigation. The site is about 4-5 miles from your position. Look for where the road has a series of three curves."

"10-4 command post."

"Search Team 16 reporting in," A female voice interrupted. "We're going to meet both teams there."

"Now, Jo…" Jim took a deep breath and continued. "Teams 18 and 17 can handle things. You just stay put."

"No! If this is…" The transmission was abruptly cut off.

"This is Team 16." Jim heard the voice of John Gage coming through on the radio. "We're going to head over as well to check things out. We also have a couple of police detectives with us. If any further help is needed they can radio it in from their vehicle."

"Roger, Team 16. You need me to retransmit the location."

"No. We got it."

Jim set the mic back in its cradle and looked over at Harriett. "Let's not get our hopes up, honey. You heard Team 18 say it's probably a car accident."

* * *

><p>"I know this was the general area. The smoke seemed to be coming from between the second and third curve." Craig said as he returned from looking over the road for signs of tread marks, anything to indicate a vehicle had went off the road.<p>

Bob guessed the incline was close to an 80 degree angle, almost a straight drop for any vehicle that might have gone off the road. He stood at the edge of the road with a pair of binoculars scanning the area below looking for any sign of disturbance in the sun burnished grasses and bushes of the landscape – unnatural ruts torn into the ground, debris that could be part of the undercarriage of a vehicle – so far he had spotted nothing. . _That doesn't look right_, he thought as he honed in on the sandstone formations below. It looked like something had scarred the surface recently. He had seen enough accidents to recognize the blemish as being caused by something metal skidding across it.

"Any signs of anybody going off the road?"

"Just before that clump of trees, it looks like something scrapped along the sandstone there," Bob answered as he started surveying an area just before a grove of small tree and shrubbery. "It also looks like the grass all up just from there in a direct path leads right into the trees."

Something caught his eye near the bottom of the ravine. _Was that a glimmer?_ Bob thought as he slowly adjusted the binoculars. He finally honed in on something reflecting the sun's rays. "Take a look here? I see something shining down there just past that bunch of trees." Bob handed the binoculars over to Craig. "Whadda ya think?"

"Yeah, it could be a piece of wreckage. Bumper, mirror…," Craig said as he scrutinized the area. "Hey, I think I spotted a muffler."

"Really?"

"Just before the trees. Kinda hard to see because it's partially hidden by some tall grass. Definitely a muffler."

"Do you want to grab the ropes or shall I?" Bob offered.

"We might as well start preparing to go down. I'll tie that rope over on that boulder across the road. It looks pretty solid."

"Afraid you might lose a bumper?" Bob said sarcastically.

"Really, Bellingham. I doubt my bumper would support your lard-ass."

"Ha-ha," Bob answered back as a black Ford truck pulled up and parked behind them.

"We got more rope if you need it. Gage is right behind us along with a couple of detectives," Charlie Dwyer said as he pointed his thumb behind him.

"Dom, make sure to keep Joanne DeSoto outta the way," Bob said as he gave him a hard pat on the back. "I can only imagine how hard this is on her, but the last thing we need is for her to get worked up. Make sure to keep her from hearing us over the radios, just in case."

Dom Barberi nodded. "Yeah, I think the detectives can help me out. You're going to need me, Dwyer, and Gage to help out with the ropes."

They both turned as John Gage's Land Rover came to a skidding stop. Joanne jumped out of the passenger side and quickly ran over to them. "Do you think it could be Roy? He coulda started a signal fire?"

"Now Joanne, we don't know anything yet." Dom wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulder and guided her towards John Gage and the two detectives. "Bob and Brice are going to head over the side and look around. They'll let us know if they find anything." Dom figured it was best not to argue with her over the possibility of the smoke belonging to a signal fire. He knew the greater likelihood that this was possible an accident that occurred recently, within the last hour or so.

"I called LA Dispatch and they have a copter on stand by," Lt. Crockett said as he walked over to the two men. "Who spotted the smoke?"

"Brice and Bellingham," Dom pointed over to them.

"Okay, I'll find out what they know so far," he said as he walked over to the two men preparing to go over the side.

Joanne watched impatiently as Lt. Crockett spoke with Bellingham and Brice. She couldn't explain it, but she had that strong gut feeling that she needed to be HERE. _Please Roy, please be down there, please stay alive_, she whispered silently to herself.

Lt. Crockett finally broke away from the two men and headed back to where Joanne was standing with Johnny and Dom Barberi. "Gage, hand me your walkie-talkie. So they can let me know what they find."

Johnny grudgingly handed it over to him. He knew they wanted to filter what he heard on the off chance it was something bad about Roy.

Bob slipped on a pair of gloves and grabbed the backpack Craig held out to him. "I'll start on down while you and Dwyer get a second line anchored. You might want to have Gage give you a hand. Keeping him busy is probably the best thing to do with him. _AND_ don't let him outta you're sight. He's liable to try to following us down the moment he think's nobody's looking."

"Bob's right," Dwyer said.

"Gage! We could use your help down here," Craig bellowed out. He turned back to Bob. "Take it nice and slow going down."

Johnny left Joanne with Dom Barberi and Detective Sterling as he trotted over to the three men. "I'd like to go down," he blurted out.

"How about you man the ropes with me," Dwyer said. "Brice and Bellingham are ready to go."

Johnny scowled, but reluctantly followed Dwyer's direction. "Can't he move any faster?" Johnny muttered impatiently as he watched Bellingham descend the slope of the ravine. A moment later, he watched Brice begin his downward journey.

* * *

><p>Bob felt a tingle of relief run through his body as he reached the bottom of the ravine. He pulled off his gloves and flexed his hands. There were a few spots where he felt the ground give way beneath his feet under the dry, crunchy grass, saved only by the rope he had gripped tightly and firmly. He pulled a few beggar ticks off the legs of his jeans as he looked up to see where his partner was. He watched Craig carefully descend backwards down the side of the steep slope. It would be a few more minutes before Craig would make it to this spot judging from his partner's distance. Bob decided to do a quick survey of the area. He didn't wander far, but far enough for him to be out of sight of his partner.<p>

"Bellingham, where the hell are you?" Brice called out.

"I'm right here," Bob said as he stepped out into view.

"Let's move," Craig ordered as both men began to move to the bottom of the clump of trees.

They finally made it to a dried creek bed and began following that. They were almost on the other side of the group of trees when a pungent smell hit them. "Damn," Bob mumbled as he recognized the smell.

"Over there," Craig pointed as he pulled the front of his coat over his nose.

"Let's move away from here 'fore the smell overwhelms us"

"We still need to search around here to see what may have caused that smoke we spotted earlier. Obviously, this isn't the source." Brice stated as he took a cursory glance around the area.

"You can do the honors. I'm gonna start looking around to see what might have caused that smoke." Bob stated as he handed Craig the radio.

"Stay within shouting distance and don't disturb anything. I'll look around on this end." Craig hissed as he snatched the walkie-talkie from him. "Search Team 18 to Lt. Crockett."

"Lt. Crockett, go ahead." The static-muffled voice answered.

"We found a car wreckage. Looks like it's been here for a while."

_"Repeat, Team 18."_

"Car wreckage. Been here for a while." Craig spoke as loudly and clearly as he could.

_"Can you make out the model of the car?"_

"No, but the color is green. Occupant deceased. Still in the car."

_"Okay 18. Don't touch or disturb anything. I'll call in a police unit and ambulance."_

"10-4. We're going to look around while we're down here to see what may have been the cause of the smoke we spotted earlier."

_"Keep us posted."_

Craig angrily shoved the walkie-talkie into his pocket. "Bellingham!" he hissed as he tromped off after his wayward partner.

* * *

><p>Bob spotted what looked like a mound and started to walk over to investigate it. As he got closer he could see a rearview mirror sticking out the top. "That musta been what caught my eye when I was up top." he whispered as he began to explore around. <em>Somebody had to have put that there. But who and why didn't they call the cops? <em>Bob walked slowly as he scrutinized the area. He stopped when he discovered what looked like a couple of footprints in the dirt. One print was clear, the other seemed scuffed into the dirt. He began to walk in the direction the footprints pointed to until he finally spotted the remains of a fire. He trotted off towards it and stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted a second wreckage.

"O-my-gosh," the words whistled through Bob's teeth as he recognized the vehicle.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Notes:<strong>

**I remember many references from the 70s mentioning Reno when it came to quickie divorces. Reno gained notoriety for famous divorces. Actors and actresses, recording stars and other famous people including Mary Pickford, Rita Hayworth, and Gloria Vanderbilt sought Reno's quickie divorces. Businessmen looking to make a buck established "divorce ranches" where divorce seekers could wait out their six-week residency requirement. Reno was Nevada's 'Sin City' and the divorce capital of the world for over half the twentieth century. Men and women would toss their wedding rings into the Truckee River from the Virginia Street Bride (aka the Bridge of Sighs) once they got their divorce papers from the county court-house. Once they cast their rings into the river they became Reno-vated.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>Friends are never earned<strong>

**They're a gift from the loving God**

**And they're precious beyond human evaluation**

**But you dare not take them for granted**

**Or they'll drift away like a smoke**

**And the warmth of their caring will vanish**

**Like the chill of the endless nights**

**-Glen Campbell, Friends (1969)**

**Chapter 11**

Bob Bellingham walked briskly to the form that was lying on its side beside the near the charred remains and crouched down beside the still figure.

"Roy?" he whispered as he studied the features hidden beneath the layer of dirt, peeling sunburnt skin, and several days' growth of whiskers. He reached out and felt the neck for a pulse. Roy started to stir a bit.

"Roy…come on, wake up," Bob spoke firmly and received a weak drawn out 'no' in response accompanied by a slow-swinging arm that he managed to evade.

"DeSoto, you swing like a girl," Bob said, with a touch of light laughter.

"Bellingham!" Bob heard the unmistakable voice of Craig Brice from behind him.

"Over here," Bob called back. "Unbelievable, huh?" Bob said as his partner crouched down beside him.

"So he's the cause of the smoke we saw earlier? Good thing we spotted it. He doesn't look like he'd last another day down here," Craig replied.

"Guess you better call Lt. Crockett back and let him know we'll be needing that rescue copter."

Craig pulled out the walkie-talkie and extended the antenna. "Team 18 to Lt. Crockett."

"Standby, Team 18."

Craig waited several seconds for the static-mixed voice of Lt. Crockett to return.

"Go ahead, Team 18."

"We've come across a second accident scene, approximately 500 ft. west of the first accident. Victim is our missing man and he is alive. Request rescue copter and medical personal at our location."

"10-4, Team 18. I'll contact dispatch and send for a chopper. I'll contact you with an estimated arrival time."

"I'll be standing by."

Craig walked back over to join Bob.

"He's been stirring a bit more," Bob said as Craig rejoined him. "Found a couple of dead yellow jackets stuck in his hair. Most likely the cause of the facial swelling and welts all over his body."

"How's his pulse and breathing?" Craig inquired.

"Both pretty rapid. He's hot to the touch." Bob lightly pinched the skin on Roy's upper arm. The skin felt dry and was lacking the elasticity required for it to bounce back to normal. "Decreased skin turgor. Let's move him into the shade over there," Bob said as they finished assessing Roy's condition.

"Looks like he's coming to," Brice pointed out as Roy gave them a squinty one-eyed stare.

"Hey buddy, were gonna move you outta this hot sun," Bob said softly as he sat Roy up and wrapped his arms around Roy's mid-section and began to drag him.

"GIT AWAY FROOM ME!"

Neither man was expecting Roy to start fighting them.

"Leave me alone!"

"ROY! Stay still! I'm not going to hurt ya," Bob tried to reassure the injured man after almost getting head-butted.

"I got his feet," Craig said as he held on to them tightly while the man they were trying to help struggled against them.

Bob noticed Roy suddenly go slack and his resistance ceased. "Thatta boy, settle down."

They finished moving their patient to a shaded area near the wreckage of his truck. Bob used his pocket knife to slice through the seams of Roy's jeans. He tossed the tattered garment aside after removing a wallet, set of keys, and retractable knife from the pockets. Bob removed the pack from his back and stuffed the items in one of its pockets.

Craig had finished peeling away the dressing from Roy's right calf. A laceration that ran the length of it seemed to show no visible signs of infection. He used Bob's pack to elevate Roy's legs before pulling out a canteen from his own backpack.

"Here." He handed it to Bob. "Pour it on him. Hopefully, that will help cool him down a little."

The moment Bob poured some of the water on Roy's chest, the fight inside of the man seemed to return with a vengeance.

"GIT URR 'ASP ENZ-IME OFF ME!" Roy screamed as he used his good arm to try to swipe away at the water that running down his chest and neck. "Tell Dr. Th-inthrop I wha-on't be one you-zz!"

A fist slammed into Bob's face.

"Get his wife on the radio. NOW!" he hissed at Craig, who narrowly missed a knee to the groin.

Craig sat on Roy's legs as he reached for the radio that lay on the ground beside them. "Lt. Crockett. Team 18."

"Lt. Crockett. Helicopter will be there in less than 20 minutes."

"Lt. Crockett. We have a situation down here…"

* * *

><p>A sound - human like, intruded into his quiet and safe world of darkness. It was beckoning to him to open his eyes.<p>

"Roy," an undistinguishable voice gurgled softly.

He ignored the voice that was trying to lure him into crashing into the rocky coast of consciousness. He wanted to stay in his sanctuary of black nothingness, away from the presence that had invaded his world. The entity was persistent as it made physical contact with him. He felt a slight pressure on his neck where his carotid artery was. A wave of painful pricks, like tiny legs, pierced his skin. He wanted to retreat back into the refuge of darkness, for it was the only escape from the creepy-crawlies scuttling across his body.

"Roy…come on, wake up," the bubbly-babbly sound tried to coax him awake. The garbled voice had a definite masculine quality to it.

A low groan vibrated in his throat. "Nuh-nooo," he muttered feebly. His mind tried to swim back to his shadowy refuge. His shoulder started to shake and it took him a moment to realize something touching him was causing the motion. He swung his arm weakly at the disturbance and ended up striking air.

"DeSoto," the voice chuckled. "You swing like a girl."

A second voice joined the first, combining together to form a buzzing-like drone. Roy managed to open his left eye, the right one was swollen shut and wouldn't budge. He squinted to focus his vision on the form crouched beside him. The features of the faces swam in front of him and for a split second he saw the faces of Bob Bellingham and Craig Brice until they swirled into a yellow and black wasp-like appearance. They stared at him with their enormous compound eyes as their antennae twitched at him and their mandibles moved back and forth. _THEY_ had come to finish him off.

"GIT AWAY FROOM ME!" he slurred loudly as one of the wasp-men began to drag him away. "Leave me alone" He began to thrash and twist his body in a futile attempt to break away from them. The other creature grabbed his legs preventing him from digging his feet into the ground. The sudden burst inside of him to put up a fight quickly fizzled as he felt the strength quickly seep out of his body. He became dead weight as the two beings continued to carry him.

Finally the dragging stopped and he felt them removing the remnants of his jeans. They were preparing him for something, _but WHAT?_ He heard snatches of human words as the two creatures communicated with each other.

"Buzzzz …Pour it on him…buzzzzz, buzzzz, buzzzz."

Roy felt a splash of liquid in the middle of his chest and felt it start to run around his neck. _OOoomigod they're going to turn me into one of them. _

"GIT URR 'ASP ENZ-IME OFF ME!" Roy screamed as he tried to wipe away the substance they were coating him with. "Tell Dr. Th-inthrop I wha-on't be one you-zz!"

One held him down while the other continued pouring the Wasp Enzyme Serum over his body. They were preparing him for a nest cell – _HE KNEW IT! _His fist connected with large round eye of one of beasts that was trying to hold him down. He tried to knee the other just below its petiole but missed.

One of the wasp monsters managed to straddle his torso and pin his arms down with its insect-thin legs.

"LISTEN!" one of the insectiods yelled at him as it held a rectangular shaped object to his ear.

* * *

><p>John Gage threw a look of contempt and disgust at the van containing a news crew from a local LA television station.<p>

_Vultures! Amazing how you'all can sniff out someone else's misfortune or tragedy, making it the carrion you feast on and then regurgitate it for public consumption. _

He had to chase off a van the first day of the search when they'd pulled up beside him and Joanne trying to garner a statement from her. He managed to chase them off while Joanne locked herself in his Rover. Johnny glanced over at the news vehicle parked in the distance. _They have no boundaries for when their presence is appropriate or not, it's always about the story with them._ He kicked at the ground and watched a pebble he disturbed skip across the asphalt.

He glanced over as Lt. Crockett went to the radio in his car a second time after talking on the walkie-talkie. His gut told him Bellingham and Brice had found something else down there. He assumed the first call the Lieutenant made to dispatch was to call in a police unit and ambulance for the wreck discovered below. The Lieutenant had ordered all the other radios turned off. He knew they were being deliberately blacked out and weren't given the full details about what was found in the ravine. He cast his eyes over towards Dwyer and Barberi who were guard dogging the ropes Bellingham and Brice had used earlier. He was almost offended having his own comrades not trust him, but he knew, deep-down, that he would be attempting to go down the side if there was an inkling that suggested Roy was down there. Johnny couldn't really fault them on keeping a close eye on him.

Johnny watched Lt. Crockett signal his partner Sam Sterling over. The two men spoke for a couple of moments then Sterling headed towards him, Dwyer, and Barberi. Johnny felt the hairs bristle on the back of his neck. He gazed speculatively at the Lieutenant as he walked over towards Joanne. _Something's up._

Lt. Crockett cleared his throat as he approached Joanne's side. "That last call over the walkie-talkie concerned your husband."

Joanne wasn't sure she was prepared for what he had to say. She always knew deep down what the outcome could be. Now, the moment she anticipated and dreaded was bearing down on her. She braced herself, thankful that the baseball cap she was wearing hid her eyes from Lt. Crockett.

"He's alive." He looked down at her and watched the stoic line of her mouth relax in relief. "A copter is on its way to pick him up. Detective Sterling is informing John Gage and the others about your husband."

Joanne managed to finally find her voice. "I thought the person they found was…"

"They found a second wreckage not far away from the first. That's where they found your husband. Right now, he's giving them a bit of a hard time. They want you to talk to him over the radio. Try and calm him down. Think you're up to that?"

Sam Sterling walked over to the trio of men. "Bellingham and Brice found a second wreckage. DeSoto's alive."

"How long have you been sitting on that information," Johnny queried the Detective. He stiffened in anger at this information being kept from him.

"About 5 minutes ago, they radioed it in to Lt. Crockett. The located a second crash site a quarter-mile west of the first wreck."

"_AND_ you guys couldn't share that with us right away." Johnny's voice carried a hint of disbelief with a dash of anger stirred in. "Don't you think we…_SHE_ had the right to know _immediately?_" Johnny pointed at towards Joanne.

"Do you want _THEM_ knowing what's going on Gage?" Sterling shot back, nudging his head in the direction of the news van. "The last thing we need is more of them up here getting in the way. The Lieutenant wanted to take care of a few things first before letting you know."

"What else aren't you telling us?" Johnny pushed.

"Right now Lt. Crockett is trying to get Mrs. DeSoto to talk to her husband. He's become combative with Bellingham and Brice."

Johnny turned towards the ropes and found himself blocked by Dwyer and Barberi. "Listen, I know how to handle Roy. I can be of more use down there instead of twiddling my thumbs up here."

"What about Joanne?" Dwyer stood his ground. "The best way for you to help Roy is to stand beside his wife. Who's gonna watch out for her if you go down there?"

"Go over there and see if you can help coach her on what to say," Barberi urged.

Johnny looked over at Joanne who threw him a pleading look as she spoke into the radio. Deep down he knew Joanne was the one who needed his support at the moment. "Yeah, you're right," he muttered as he walked over to his partner's wife and placed a hand on her shoulder. He could feel her trembling nervously. If Roy picked up on any nervousness in her voice it could end up agitating him even more.

"It's okay, Jo. Try to sound like yourself. Speak calmly as if you're face-to-face. It's important to watch the tone of your voice; he'll pick up on it."

She looked up him gratefully, took a deep breath to get her emotions under control. In a clear, soft voice she spoke into the radio.

"Roy…honey…"

* * *

><p>The voice had an uneasy tentativeness to it, but he definitely recognized it as belonging to his wife. It was coming from the device the wasp-man was holding to his ear.<p>

"NO…not Jo…tricking me." He spoke in-between deep gasps for breath.

"Roy."

Through the slight fuzzy sound he recognized the firm stubbornness in the voice. The tone reminded him of the one she used in the mornings when he did want to get out of bed.

"Jo," he whispered. "Wanna git b-back to you. Thaaay won't let me."

"Roy, they're there to help you." He recognized the unmistakable no-nonsense tone she often used on the kids and occasionally on him. "Roy, I need you to do something for me."

"Any-ting fur you."

"Close your eyes and just concentrate on my voice. Can you do that for me?"

"Huh-huh."

* * *

><p>"You're doing good, Jo. Don't worry if he doesn't answer back. Keep talking." Johnny encouraged her.<p>

Joanne gave him a grateful smile. "Roy do you remember when…"

"It's okay now, Mrs. DeSoto. He seems to have drifted off to sleep," the voice of Craig Brice came on the radio.

"Is he going to be alright?" Joanne asked.

"Yes ma'am. Nothing a few days at Rampart won't take care of. He's going to be fine."

"Thank you…for finding him," Joanne started to choke up.

"You're welcome. We have his wallet and keys. Do you want us to hang on to them for now or send them with him to the hospital?"

"Hang on to them for now. You can return them to him when he's up for visitors. I know he'll want to thank you personally and he'll _definitely_ want to apologize for giving you a rough time."

Johnny pointed up towards the sky. "Hey, looks like his ride has arrived."

* * *

><p>Craig took the canteen from Bob and began cleaning the leg wound. "Yuck!" he muttered, removing the cactus pulp as best he could as he cleansed the wound with water.<p>

"We can save a sample of that just in case and let Rampart have a look at it," Bob suggested as he handed his partner the roll of gauze he had retrieved from his backpack.

Craig had just finished wrapping up the leg wound when they both smiled at each other in relief. They recognized the small dot in the sky coming towards them. The sound of its motor and propellers slicing through the air grew louder as it neared them. Bob remained crouched beside their patient as Craig ran towards the open area to flag down the copter. The helicopter hovered several feet off the ground as it slowly landed in a flat open area just past the dried creek bed. Craig waited for the blades to stop moving before approaching it. The side door slid open and a stokes was slowly shoved through the opening. Craig grabbed hold of it and waited until one of the paramedics from 36's jumped to the ground and took the drug box offered to him by the second paramedic on board. Craig grabbed the trauma kit as it was shoved through the door. They loaded both boxes into the stokes, the paramedic signaled the pilot. The helicopter rose into the sky and held its position above the mountain ridges.

"We can't maintain contact with Rampart when we're below the ridge line. My partner'll stay with the bird and relay between us and the hospital." Norm Burton said as he allowed Brice to take the lead with the front end of the stokes. "What do you have Brice?"

"Accident victim, been down here about 6 days." Craig answered as they set the stokes down beside their victim and Bellingham.

"Hey Normie!" Bob greeted 36's paramedic.

"Looks like someone socked ya' good in the eye there," Norm commented.

"DeSoto," Bob answered, pointing a thumb at their patient. "Gotta warn ya' he's not as innocent as he looks."

"Article 4, Paragraph 22," Norm winked at Bob as he wrapped the BP cuff around Roy's upper arm and began to inflate it. A hissing sound filled the air as Norm deflated the cuff.

Bob waited until Norm was finished taking Roy's vitals before speaking. "We suspect heat exhaustion and dehydration. He's experienced some delusional episodes. Broken arm, leg laceration. Swelling and hives due to multiple stings. Found no stingers embedded in his skin."

"Copter 14, this is HT 36," Norm said into the HT he'd pulled from inside the stokes.

Bob and Craig loaded Roy into the stretcher while Norm relayed the patient's vitals and received treatment orders from his partner who had stayed on board the helicopter.

"He may become combative again when he feels the needle going in. I'll hold his arm still while you set up the IV," Craig offered as Norm pulled out a bag of normal saline. "Bob'll help keep him still if needed."

Roy's unswollen eye flew open as the needle entered his skin. "Noooo more."

Bob held him down by the shoulders and Craig kept his right arm still while Norm taped the IV in place.

"Take it easy. No more stings," Bob kept his tone of voice soft and reassuring.

"Where's Jo-ooo?"

"She'll meet you at the hospital. Just like she promised."

"I 'romised her."

"That's right you promised her you'd behave. She's gonna meet you at the hospital," Bob confirmed.

"Not Jo-ooo. Sa-rah. Prom-ised Sarah."

"Promised Sarah what?"

"Other accident. Th-think it's her," Roy mumbled. "Need to-o let them know what happened to h-her."

"Who ya' talking about Roy?" While Bob had kept him busy talking, Norm and Craig treated him.

"Hand me 125 milligrams of Solu-Medrol," Norm asked Craig.

"T-tell them where she is."

"We found the other crash. We've told them 'bout it," Bob answered.

"Hmmmmm. Fam-a-ly needs to know 'bout her."

"It's okay. We found her," Bob reassured him.

Realizing his promise to Sarah Loaring would be taken care of, he settled down. "Can I have the hubcap back?"

"Hubcap?" Bob was a little perplexed by this request. "You don't need it now."

"Want the-e hubcap. By the fire."

Bob walked over to the long extinguished fire and pickup up the shiny saucer-like object. "This what you mean?" Bob asked as he held the object up to Roy.

"Huh-huh. Still need it."

Bob picked up his knapsack and stuffed it inside. "I'll make sure to keep it safe for you."

"Th-thanks," Roy said as he closed his eyes and settled back down.

"Ready to transport." After the three of them made sure Roy was strapped securely in the stretcher, Norm picked up the HT and contacted the chopper to come in for the pickup. Bob held the IV bag as Craig and Norm carried the stretcher to the chopper. The helicopter took off as soon as they had loaded Roy aboard.

Craig turned to Bob. "Wonder what the deal was with him and the hubcap?"

"Being alone for the last five days, I imagine he had some deep and meaningful conversations with it."

Craig laughed. "No doubt. With Gage as a partner, he's probably not used to having somebody…or something listening to him."

"Probably right there, partner," Bob agreed as both men started to trek back to the first accident site.

"So what are your ideas on our first visit to DeSoto?" Craig inquired.

"I'm sure between us two busy bees…I mean wasps, we'll come up with something. After all, we can only hope to top the flamingos with the paper flames taped to their butts that we decorated Vicente's lawn with."

"Yes, I owe him one for using Robert's Rules of Order against me. We'll have to set DeSoto straight on one thing. There is no such thing as Wasp Enzyme Serum. Wonder where he got that idea from?"

"My guess would be a bad Art Frommich movie."

"I concur. Obviously, Chet Kelly picks out most of the junk they watch on the station television set."

They were almost at the first accident site when Bob stopped at the mound of rocks with the rearview mirror sticking out from the top. He wasn't sure if Roy had meant it as a form of memorial or signal. He paused and solemnly stared down at it. "I only wish there was two happy endings instead of one."

Craig returned a look of silent agreement towards Bob.

* * *

><p>Joanne watched as the helicopter took off towards the city. She looked pleading up at the sky almost wishing she could be transported through time and space so she could be at the hospital when her husband arrived. Johnny had gone over to talk to Dwyer and Barberi for a moment, leaving her to rock anxiously back and forth on her heels. A police unit and ambulance had arrived onscreen along with another news van.<p>

"Hurry up! We'll have a helluva time getting to the hospital when the roads get clogged with camera crews and equipment." she hissed in Johnny's direction, grateful he was far enough away not to hear her.

Johnny trotted over to her. "Dwyer's moving his truck over by Lt. Crockett's car. While he's doing that, I want you to grab anything you need out of my Rover."

"What's going on?" Joanne was puzzled by his request.

"I recognize the one news van as the one that's been dogging us since we got here. They're the ones from the other day that tried to interview us. They probably recognized my vehicle. If they see my Rover leaving, they may try something stupid, like follow us. Dwyer and I are going to switch vehicles."

Joanne nodded affirmatively. Dwyer started moving his black Ford truck and Johnny signaled her to go. She walked briskly over to the passenger side of his Rover and opened the door enough to grab her purse. She tucked it securely under her arm and walked casually back over to Johnny.

"Okay, now we're going to walk over to Crockett's car and get in the back seat. "

"Why?" Joanne asked as she followed Johnny to the car.

Johnny motioned for her to get into the car before motioning her to slide over. He sat down next to her. Dwyer opened his truck door enough to slide out and crouched beside the back door of Crockett's car. "Now duck down and open the door enough to get out. Climb into Dwyer's truck and move over to the passenger side. Keep your head down. We want them to think Dwyer's the only one in the truck."

Joanne did as she was told. It was a high step up into the truck and she fumbled a bit trying to get in until she felt a pair of hands on her rear end boosting her upwards. "Thanks," she whispered as she kept her head down and made her way to the passenger side. She finally heard the driver's door shut.

"Okay, we're gonna wait a couple of minutes and then I'm gonna start the truck up. I'll let you know when you can get up."

Joanne muttered out an acknowledgement to his instructions. To her it felt like an eternity before she heard Johnny start up the truck and it began to move slowly forward. From her position she could hear the hum of the tires and the odd 'clink' of a rock or pebble struck the underside of the vehicle. Johnny finally gave the okay for her to sit up. She looked over at him as she adjusted the baseball cap on her head and put on her seat belt.

"Okay, we're gonna go around into Calabasas taking the Ventura Freeway to the 405. Crockett felt we'd less likely run into any jams going that route. Doesn't look like any of them caught on yet that we left. Crockett's back there giving the newsmen the runaround."

"I wish this thing could fly." Joanne gave him a half-smile as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Johnny. You've been by my side through this whole ordeal. I didn't mean to come off as ungrateful."

"It's okay, Jo." He flashed her a lopsided grin. "You know if I could make this thing fly, I would. You don't mind if I ring the station when we get to the hospital and let them know about Roy?"

"Of course not...OMIGOD! Roy's parents! Somebody needs to let them know right away."

"Calm down Jo. Dwyer and Barberi are gonna circle around and tell 'em. I already took care of it." Johnny saw the look of panic ease out of Joanne's face.

"Roy's going to be so proud when he hears how his partner was quite the standup guy during this whole ordeal." Joanne looked over at him her eyes brimming with tears that were on the verge of spilling over. "Sorry, I'm just a little overwhelmed at all the friends that have pitched in to help find Roy…especially you for being there for me. It really did mean a lot to me. You didn't put up a fuss over having me as a tag-a-long during the search. I'm sure most other guys would have tried to talk me into staying at the Command Post."

"I kinda had a feeling you'd go stir-crazy waiting around." Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not that I think you're crazy…I mean…" He could feel the heat coloring his face.

"I know what you mean."

"Well he'd do the same for my wife. If I had a wife…not sure I want a wife…" Johnny gave a nervous laugh. "'Sides you're a much cuter partner to have around than Roy," he added with a wink.

* * *

><p>Billy Hanks and his partner for the day, Jake Turner, walked into the kitchen to join the rest of the crew members at Station 51 for lunch. The table was cluttered with lunch dishes and looked abandoned, as if the station had been called out to a call in the middle of their meal. However, since the start of their shift, someone had his ear glued to the radio or television hoping to catch a snippet of information about how the search for their missing friend and co-worker was coming along. Billy knew they didn't have to be paramedics or have vast medical knowledge to know the odds of Roy DeSoto being found alive diminished with each passing day. He ignored the plate Jake offered to him and walked over to the dayroom to where Captain Stanley and the other three crew members stood in a semi-circle around the television set. Jake set his plate on the table and followed Billy. The rest of the crew were listening attentively to each word of the male voice that was describing the events that flashed on the screen.<p>

"_A news crew was already in the area to get an update on the search for missing fireman, Roy DeSoto, who disappeared almost a week ago when they had spotted what appeared to be a rescue or recovery operation in place." _A male voice from the television spoke as pictures of the scene played across the television screen.

"That looks like Dwyer's truck," Chet pointed to the right of the screen. He was silenced what a 'shhhhhhhh' from one of the other three men standing beside him.

"_Apparently, the only information you've been given so far is that a vehicle did go off the road and down the ravine somewhere in this vicinity,"_ said the voice of a female interviewer.

"_That's been confirmed," _answered the man.

"_Any confirmation that this is connected to either missing person case or is this a separate accident that just occurred?"_

"_The senior officer present at the scene has not issued a statement either way on whether this accident just occurred or is a recovery operation. A fire department helicopter just left the scene a few minutes ago, which suggests the possibility of an injured person needing medical attention. That leads to some speculation that an accident occurred within the last hour or so. A police unit and ambulance arrived a few minutes ago, which also could mean there is a casualty or casualties involved."_

"Why's Dwyer moving his truck?" Chet questioned.

"Will ya' be quiet Chet? They're getting ready to interview the officer at the scene." Mike Stoker scolded him.

"_Lt. Crockett! Lt. Crockett!"_ Several voices sounded together.

Three microphones were shoved under the Lieutenant's chin as all the reporters seemed to talk at the same time. _"Can you give us a rough idea when this accident occurred?" "Is this accident connected to the two missing person cases in this area?"_

Lt. Crockett raised a hand to silence the reporters before he started talking. _"At this time I cannot give you an official statement. The only thing I can tell you is an accident did occur at this site. Once the identity of any victims has been confirmed and their families notified you're just going to have to wait until a representative from the department makes an official statement."_

"_Can you at least tell us when the accident occurred?"_ One male voice asked.

"_Sorry, I can't make any further comments at this time,"_ Lt. Crockett answered as he walked away from the reporters.

"_That was Lt. Ron Crockett from the Los Angeles Police Department…"_

Captain Stanley turned off the television. "Okay fellas, let's get back to work." He said in a flat somber voice that was void of its normal easy-going tone.

Billy observed the looks they exchanged between each other, communicating what words could not: frustration, worry, a sense of helplessness. The regular playful firehouse banter was replaced by the sound of their feet scuffing against the floor as they meandered towards the kitchen. He saw the eyes of each man wander over to the phone on the wall as they cleared the table and started the dishes. Each glance was a wish for it to ring.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Unlike the majority of bird species, Vultures actually have the ability to smell and locate a carcass up to a mile away.**

**Art Frommich was the screenwriter in the Season 4 episode "Screenwriter"**

**Article 4, Paragraph 22 was the rule to end all rules in the Season 6 episode "Rules of Order"**

**Disclaimer**

**Wasp Enzyme Serum and Dr. Zinthrop belong to the movie "The Wasp Woman" which was directed by Roger Corman, screenplay by Leo Gordon and story by Kinta Zertuche. Those references belong to them, not me.**

**Many thanks to my beta Enfluerage and to Nine Miles North for some valuable input on this chapter and helping to work out the kinks.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. But the self is not something one finds, it is something one creates.<strong>

**-Thomas Szasz**

**Chapter 12**

"Start IV with Normal Saline and administer 125 milligrams of Solu-Medrol, IV Push. Transport as soon as possible." Dr. Joe Early turned from the Base Station and looked over as Nurse Dixie McCall moved the yellow magnet labeled 'Medical' indicating that Squad 36 was in transport on the Squad Status Board. "Setup Treatment Room 4."

Dixie locked eyes with the Dr. Early for a moment. She could almost read his mind for she was having the same thoughts. _It fits, the area, the amount of time the accident victim had been in the ravine. It just has to be him. _"I'll make sure it's ready," she said with a hint of hope in her smile.

Joe followed her as she exited the cubicle that now served as the Base Station for the last year. The enclosure offered more privacy and kept the noise from the rest of the Emergency Department allowing his thoughts the freedom from the usual chaotic distractions. _At least five days, maybe six. Possible. Definitely possible._ His eyes followed her down the hall and he couldn't help noticing the sparkle of hope that had flickered in Dixie's eyes as she took notes from the call.

"Dr. Early." A young nurse approached him with some charts in her arms. "I need you to sign off on these," she requested politely.

"Ah…sure." He looked but the young lady's name tag was hidden behind the charts. "Just give me a few minutes to go through them." He took the charts from her and set them down on the counter. He opened the first chart and started to quickly glance through it. He had signed off on three of the charts when Dr. Brackett approached the nursing station.

"What's up with Dix?" Dr. Brackett asked. "This is the first time this week I've seen that little spring in her step and a genuine smile on her face."

"I'll know for sure in about 10 minutes." Dr. Early grinned at his colleague.

"You too!" Dr. Brackett's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something's up. I can see it in your face."

"Not sure. I'll-we'll have to wait and see what 36's is flying in for us." He looked back down at the chart, a part of him afraid that if he expressed his suspicions he might jinx them.

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms as his eyebrows slanted downwards. "AND just what is 36's bringing in?"

The sound of buzzer to the Base Station went off and the red light at the top of the door turned on. "Figures." Dr. Brackett scowled as he opened the door to the room and walked in, followed by the young nurse who had given Dr. Early the charts.

Dr. Early let out a breath of relief. Neither he nor Dixie had spoken their suspicions out loud, but he sensed she had the same gut feeling he had over the call. He spent his next several minutes going over the remaining patient charts before he finally got up and headed down the hall towards the treatment room. Any moment now 36's would be bringing in their patient.

* * *

><p>"Coming through," Frank Lincoln called out as they brought the gurney through the doors. He had to admit; he enjoyed the Moses-like power it gave him as he watched people step out-of-the-way or move closer to the walls to clear a path for them.<p>

Norm Burton was on the other side of the gurney holding the I.V. bag up. It was the same reaction every time they brought a patient in. People would stand aside, trying to get a glance at the patient or their eyes would be fixed to the color of the I.V. solution.

Dixie stood back as the paramedics from 36's wheeled their patient around the corner, averting her eyes from looking directly at the patient. "Treatment Room 4." She directed them into the room before following them in. She took a deep breath and started to walk over to the patient when a voice from behind her spoke.

"What'd you guys bring me?" Dr. Early asked as he positioned himself beside Dixie as they watch the two paramedics transfer the patient to the examination table.

"Would you believe we found Grizzly Adams?" Frank Lincoln said as he pointed a thumb at their patient. "Spent several days in the great outdoors. Dehydration, heat exhaustion, multiple wasp stings, broken arm, lacerated leg."

Dixie walked over to the patient and peered down into his face. Despite the matted hair, dirt, swollen eye, and a ballooned out top lip, there was no mistaking who the high cheekbones and snub nose belonged to. A smile danced across her lips. "Roy DeSoto, you look like something the cat dragged in," she smiled in spite of the stern tone of her voice.

"I don't know, Dix, you're sure it's not Grizzly Adams? Resemblance is uncanny," Dr. Early quipped as he dodged an elbow aimed at his gut from the nurse.

"Where's Jo? Promised to be here," Roy whispered up at the two faces that peered down at him.

"I'm sure she's on her way," Dixie assured him. "How about we get you cleaned up a bit before she gets here?"

"Oohh…yeah. 'mm a mess, huh? Don't wanna her see me like this."

"Nothing a little soap and water won't cure." Dixie nodded affirmatively at him and winked.

"Dix, get a fresh set of vitals. Draw some blood for a Chem 7, CBC, type and cross. I'll also need an X-ray of that arm."

"I'm gonna warn ya', he gave Bellingham and Brice a bit of a hard time. You might wanna have some backup before sticking any needles in him," Norm Burton informed them as Dixie gave Dr. Early a new set of vitals.

"Okay Roy, I'm just going to draw a little blood. Promise to behave."

"Dunno what he's talkin 'bout. I never give you a hard time," Roy said as he watched her stick the needle into his arm, watching each vial fill up with blood.

Dixie handed the vial to a nurse that had entered the room. "Roma, take this to the Lab and bring me back a double basin of warm water."

"I'll send Kim in with the double basin while I run this to the Lab," Roma answered and waited for Dixie's nod of approval before heading out of the treatment room.

"Doc, you need us anymore?" Frank Lincoln asked.

"We can handle it from here." Dr. Early replied before turning to his patient. "Hey Roy, you finally decided to turn up. How are you feeling?"

"Tired…and…" He began scratching at his chest. "Itchy. Itch all over."

"Must be a reaction to the stings. Do you remember what stung you?" Dr. Early asked.

"Yellow jackets…a bunch of 'em." He continued to scratch as Dixie pulled his arm back to his side. "Somethin's funny 'bout my foot," he mumbled.

Dr. Early looked up at Dixie. "Give him 50 milligrams of Benadryl, IV push now and continue every four hours."

He turned back to Roy. "I've noticed the laceration on your leg. It's a little deep, but it looks good so far. No sign of infection."

"Not the leg. My foot…other leg. Can't walk right on it. Not since the crash."

Dr. Early wrinkled his nose as he examined the filthy appendage, thankful that he had slipped on a pair of rubber gloves a few minutes earlier. He noted some swelling on the upper part of the foot. "Does it hurt when I do this?" he asked as he palpated the area.

Roy nodded.

"Okay, we'll take an X-ray of the foot when we do the arm."

Kim walked into the treatment room with a double basin as Dr. Brackett followed her inside the room. She wheeled it over to the head of the patient. She dipped a couple of wash cloths into the one basin containing warm, soapy water and wrung them out. Giving one of the cloths to Dixie, they started to clean Roy up

"I just ran into Lincoln and Burton on their way out. Said I might be interested in what they brought in." Dr. Brackett said as he crossed his arms and stood beside Dr. Early.

"Well…aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he chuckled as he stared down at Roy. He wrinkled his nose and patted Dr. Early soundly on the back. "I think you're gonna need a lot more soap and water to get through this one."

* * *

><p>"Be careful, this truck is a little high off the ground," Johnny said as he was answered by a slamming door. He hadn't even had time to pull the key out of the ignition when she hopped out of the vehicle.<p>

"Never mind," he sighed as he reached over and pushed down the lock on the passenger door.

"Whoa, Nelly," Johnny panted as he finally caught up to Joanne a few feet from the Emergency Entrance.

"I'm sorry, Johnny. I'm just afraid Roy's gonna cause them some grief because I'm not there like I promised," Joanne said breathlessly.

Johnny gently grabbed her forearm and guided her through the automatic doors. "You underestimate the power of Dixie McCall when it comes to handling problematic patients."

Joanne let out a laugh. "You're speaking from firsthand knowledge no doubt."

"Now wait a minute!" Johnny looked down at her as they rounded the corner into the main hallway of the Emergency Department. "Are you insinuating that I'm a difficult patient?"

"Hold it right there, John Gage!" Johnny abruptly stopped coming within a fraction of an inch of colliding with Dr. Mike Morton.

"You can tell me about it in Treatment Room 2." Dr. Morton pointed a finger in the direction of the room.

"Now wait a minute Doc," Johnny protested. "I'm not here..." He snaked his arm behind Joanne and pulled her to his side. "We're here to see Roy."

"Roy?" Dr. Morton raised his eyebrows.

Joanne nodded her head vigorously.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Johnny asked as he noticed the perplexed expression on Dr. Morton's face.

"I've been tied up with a cardiac case for over the last hour. You mean…you're not here to be…I caught the tail-end of your conversation and you mentioned something about a difficult patient…I just assumed…" Dr. Morton interrupted by appearance of Dr. Brackett leaving Treatment Room 3.

"Joanne. Johnny," Dr. Brackett greeted them. "How about you go down to my office and wait while I track down Dr. Early."

"Have you seen him?" Joanne blurted out.

"A while ago, when they first brought him in." Dr. Brackett put a hand around her shoulder as he walked down the hall directing her towards his office. "I'm not sure if he's still in a treatment room or up in X-ray."

"X-ray?" Joanne questioned.

"According to Joe, he's got a broken left arm, a possible broken bone in his foot, cuts, scrapes, and bug bites. Otherwise, Joe thinks he's gonna be fine."

Dr. Brackett held the door of his office open for Joanne. "Dixie'll probably be down shortly to take you to see your husband."

"Thank you." Joanne smiled up at him as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Johnny started to follow Dr. Brackett out of the office and lingered in the half-open door for a moment. "I'll be right back. I gotta let the guys at the station know what's going on. Want me to bring you back a coffee or something?"

"I'm fine. Thanks…thanks for everything Johnny."

* * *

><p>Billy Hanks answered the phone before the second ring. "Hello Station 51, Fireman Hanks speaking."<p>

"Hey Johnny. No they've been called out to an industrial fire."

"Unfortunately you're right. They could be there for several hours." Billy remained silent, not sure if he should ask about Roy or not. If it was bad news he didn't want to be the one to break it to the other guys.

"So-uh, you want me to pass on message from you to them or do you want me to have Cap call you back"

Billy eyes widened as he listened to Johnny 's excited chatter. "That's great." He looked over at his partner Jake Turner and mouthed the words, _"They found him."_

"Hey… was that the scene we were watching on the news earlier?"

"Well yeah, they were watching it, but there really weren't many details they gave out…the guys left thinking it was a recent accident."

"Chet thought he saw Dwyer's truck there."

"Good. You gave them the slip for now."

"I'll make sure they get the message. I'll also leave a note for Captain Stanley just in case we're not here when they get back."

"Yep, I'll let Cap know he can reach you or Joanne at Rampart."

"Hey Gage. I'm really glad you found him…and he's gonna be fine."

"Okay, talk to you later."

Billy hung up the phone and walked over to the chalkboard in the Rec. Room. Picking up a stick of chalk from the ledge, he held it in his hand for a moment before deciding what to write on the slate board. A tap resonated in the empty room as the chalk made contact with the board. The occasional squeak of friction between the chalk and board could be heard as he scrawled his message in big letters.

"Think that's okay?" Billy asked Jake.

Jake grabbed the chalk off the ledge and added to Billy's message. "That should take care of it. Hurry up and leave a note on Cap's desk before we get toned out."

Billy nodded and walked briskly out of the Rec Room. Jake could hear his footsteps in the bay area heading towards the Captain's Office. He stood back and reread the message.

"Yep, that should work if we're not here when they get back."

* * *

><p>"Dang!" Jim swore out loud. "They must have changed radio frequencies. I can't pick up anything now."<p>

"I'm sure Johnny'll fill us in later about what happened." He muttered to himself.

Harriett silently stared into the cup of tea in front of her that had long grown cold. Both of them had felt more of their hope crumble away at the end of each day as they headed back to the campsite along with the increased aching in their hearts. Harriett quietly wept herself to sleep each night as he made futile and helpless attempts to soothe her. That was the frustrating part for him was the 'not knowing.'

Jim grabbed the thermos from the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee from it and sat down beside his wife in the kitchenette. He slowly twirled the cup around in a circle, wishing it was within his power to give his wife their son back, safe and unharmed.

He understood the brotherhood between Roy and his fellow firefighters. It was similar to the bond he had shared in the Air Corps with his fellow pilots. When one went down, they all felt the loss. They would all pull together and carry each other through it.

Realistically, he knew with each day that had passed the likelihood of his son being found alive became more unlikely. He had begun to wonder this morning when the volunteers for the search would start to slowly dwindle away. He had no doubt these men would stick with it for as long as possible, however they couldn't put their lives on hold forever. They also had their own families and loved ones that depended on them.

He felt Harriett nudging his arm. "Jim, sounds like somebody's here."

He got up and heard the crunching of gravel outside of the trailer. He helped Harriett climb down from the trailer. He was surprised to see Charlie Dwyer and Dom Barberi getting out of Johnny's Rover. Craig Brice and Bob Bellingham exited the green Suburban parked behind them.

"We've found Roy alive…"

Jim didn't hear anything after those four words; they were the only words that resonated in Jim's ears, especially the last word '_ALIVE_.'

* * *

><p>Dr. Early perched on a stool near the end of the gurney dressing Roy's leg wound while Dixie ushered Joanne into the treatment room to a metal stool closer to Roy's head.<p>

"He's awake," Dixie whispered as she and Johnny took a few steps in Dr. Early's direction.

The nerve-racking pain that had plagued her heart over the last several days was finally cured by the sight of her husband. She'd agonized over the last several days wondering if she had lost him forever. Joanne inhaled deeply to control the feelings swirling inside of her. The last thing she wanted to do was dissolve into an emotional puddle in front of her husband. She'd deal with those feelings later and privately without her husband's friends or coworkers as an audience. Dixie had done a good job of cleaning him up. She could make out the tracks of a comb in his still damp hair and winced at the sight of his swollen eye and lip. The white hospital gown emphasized the sunburnt ruddiness of his face and right arm. She wondered what scrapes and cuts the gown kept hidden from her. His eyes were closed, but she knew by the sound of his breathing he was awake.

"Roy…honey," Joanne cooed tenderly to get his attention as she placed her hand on top of his.

Dr. Early had forewarned her he might still be somewhat incoherent. She sucked in her bottom lip in anticipation as she waited for a response from him, fighting the urge to throw her arms around him. Maintaining her composure was tantamount at the moment. She recalled the numerous times Roy had expressed his frustration over the years with family members exacerbating a patient's condition by becoming overemotional with their behavior.

He squinted at her with his left eye. "Jo…really you," he whispered.

He recognized the unique sensation emanating from her hand as it rested on his. It wasn't just his body that felt battered and weakened over the last several days; his spirit had also been exhausted. He could feel the essence of her human current coursing through him in a manner akin to the I.V. in his arm that was replenishing his body with fluids. His life-force depended on her love, fortitude, and unconditional sacrifice as one of its main sources of strength.

"Huh-huh, it's me, the President of your Fan Club," Joanne lightly joked with him.

"Mmmm…my one and only member."

"Forever lifetime member."

Joanne ruffled the growth of whiskers on his face. The tips of her fingers felt a slight warmth radiating from his skin. "How's my guy feeling?"

"Fine…just fine. Just need some clothes and you can take me home."

Dixie raised her eyebrows and glared directly into Johnny's guilt-ridden brown eyes. "I bet my sweet knees he's learned that line from you," she whispered in a low-deadpanned voice.

"I have a feeling, Dr. Early wants to keep you here for a few days." Joanne squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Wanna go home with you," Roy protested as he failed at his attempt to sit up.

"I hate to tell you mister, but your Fan Club has grown in membership over the years." Dixie positioned herself beside Joanne. "I know this fan would be _awfully_ upset if you didn't stay for a few days."

"Well honey, I don't think either of us wants to argue with your fans," Joanne added.

"Mmmm…wanna stay with you?" Roy attempted to cajole his wife with a smile, but his puff-out upper lip only succeeded in making him look like a freshly caught fish flopping around on the deck of a boat gasping for air.

"Hey pally, that trout-pout you're sporting makes you look like you went a few rounds with Muhammad Ali." Johnny chuckled and took some light punches at the air in front of him. "You know, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

"Remind me to revoke his membership," an unamused Roy whispered to Joanne.

"I'm sure Johnny's been kicked out of worse clubs," Dr. Early quipped as he got up from his stool and walked over to join the others.

Dr. Early peered down at Roy. "Besides I think the general membership has unanimously agreed that you're staying."

A beep from the intercom phone on the wall interrupted any counter argument Roy could make. Dixie walked over and picked it up. She nodded her head as she listened.

"Thanks. He'll be there in a few minutes." Dixie turned to the group on the other side of the room.

"That was Ortho. Dr. Anderson is ready to take care of Roy's arm and foot. There should be a room on the floor ready for him by the time they finish up with him. Joanne can fill out the admitting forms while Roy's getting casted."

Joanne gave her husband's hand a squeeze as Dixie went to round-up two orderlies. "I'll join you right after I fill out your paper work."

She got up from the stool as two orderlies followed Dixie into the room. She bent down and kissed her husband on the forehead. "I'll see you soon."

Johnny started to follow Joanne and Dixie. "Johnny…can I talk to you for a minute?" Roy requested as he was being wheeled out of the room.

"I'll catch up with ya'," Johnny said to the two women.

He caught up with Roy at the elevator. "What can I do for you, pally?"

"I just wanted to thank you for sticking by Joanne and looking out for her."

"It's what best friends do." Johnny bowed his head down modestly.

"I hate to think about what the last several days were like for her."

"I won't lie to you. It was pretty rough on her not knowing where you where or what happened to you."

Johnny looked down and noticed the furrowed brow on Roy's face. "I'll tell you one thing that's for sure; that's one tough gal you have there, Roy."

"She's tough, but sometimes things can take a toll on her. Looks like she lost some weight," Roy commented.

"A few of us made sure she took care of herself," Johnny reassured him.

A ding filled the air, indicating that his ride had arrived.

"You don't know how much I appreciate you being there for her," Roy said as they wheeled him into the elevator.

"HEY! Does that mean you're gonna reinstate my membership?" Johnny called out as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

><p>Mike backed the engine into the bay. He noticed the empty spot where the squad was normally parked. Nobody hopped out of the engine in a rush to the showers. One by one, the sound of each pair of feet hitting the cement signaled each man exiting the vehicle. They strode wordlessly towards the entrance of the kitchen.<p>

It was finally Captain Stanley that broke the silence. "Mike you hit the shower first. Marco you heat up the casserole you brought in this morning."

Marco turned his soot-smudged face towards his Captain and nodded affirmatively. Chet headed towards the sink and washed his hands before opening a cupboard and taking out a stack of plates.

Mike noticed Captain Stanley slowly walking towards the Rec Room, and staring at the far wall. Instead of heading off for his shower he walked over to see what had caught the Captain's attention. He sidled up beside Hank Stanley, stared at the message scrawled on the blackboard. Both men looked at each other. Mike could see the mixture of anticipation and anxiety in Hank's eyes.

"Hey!" Chet's voice broke the silence. "What are you two waiting for? A giant jug of talking Kook-Aid to come bustin' through the wall?"

Marco gave Chet a slap on his upper arm and pointed to the blackboard.

"I've seen it already, Marco." Chet threw him an annoyed look. "It looks pretty straight forward to me. There's a message on Cap's desk."

Marco crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Chet responded with a loud sigh and pointed to the bottom right corner of the board. "I doubt they'd draw a smiley face on the board if it's bad news."

Captain Stanley locked eyes with his Engineer. Chet was right. He hadn't noticed the drawing in the corner. He turned abruptly and walked briskly out through the kitchen door and made a bee-line towards his office. He heard three sets of footsteps echoing behind him in hot pursuit. He had barely sat down in his desk chair as he found himself surrounded by his engine crew. Picking up the paper he read it to himself.

"Johnny called," he said stoically.

"AND?" The normally reserved Mike Stoker called out impatiently.

A huge grin formed on Hank's face. "They found Roy. He's alive. Johnny and Joanne are at Rampart with him."

"Well it looks like the Big Fireman in the Sky came through after all," Chet exclaimed as he patted Marco heartily on the back.

* * *

><p>Jim watched the scenery go by the window in a blur of greens and browns as he sat in the backseat of the white Land Rover with his wife. He had given the keys to the trailer and the Woody wagon to Brice and Bellingham. They would park the trailer and vehicle behind Station 51 and would meet up with him and his wife at the hospital later to return the keys. They had given them a quick rundown on Roy and assured them he was going to be fine.<p>

He knew they had found a fatality before finding Roy. He was overjoyed that their son was found alive and his grandchildren wouldn't grow up fatherless, but he couldn't help wondering about the family of the other victim. Although it hadn't been officially confirmed, in all likelihood it was the young mother who had disappeared before Roy. He wondered if her husband and two children would have the support that Joanne would have had if things had turned out differently.

What are the odds of two vehicles going off the road within the same stretch of road? Why does one survive and one doesn't? Jim looked over at his wife and gave her hand a tight squeeze. He knew he was going to drive himself crazy pondering questions that were unanswerable. Still, as grateful as he was that his son's life was spared, he couldn't help but feel for the family of the one whose wasn't.

He looked over his wife and gave her hand a squeeze. Her outward appearance displayed a middle-aged woman who was the epitome of patient composure, but he knew better. Inside she was feeling some of the same conflict he was.

"Don't worry about a thing. Brice and Bellingham will get take good care of your trailer and the dog." Dom Barberi turned his head to talk to the couple in the back seat. "In about another half hour we'll be at the hospital."

Jim put his arm around Harriett. "We can't thank you boys enough for everything you've done for Roy, Joanne…and us. You put your lives on hold to pitch in and help find our son."

Dom Barberi's face flushed in modesty. "Roy'd be one of the first one to volunteer if it was any one of us that needed help."

"Jim and I are extremely grateful to you boys for everything." Harriett's voice cracked. "It's been almost overwhelming to know how many good friends our son has."

Jim pulled Harriett closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex as a few tears slid slowly down her cheeks. Their ordeal was over, while another family would be left coping with a loss. Maybe he'd have a chat with the spectacled young fellow about organizing something for that family. Nothing could replace the loss of a loved one, but perhaps meeting some needs, financial or otherwise, could help ease some of the burden of their loss.

* * *

><p>Dixie helped Joanne lower the side rail on the bed. Joanne gingerly sat down on the edge and listened to her husband's light snoring. <em>You always snore when you sleep on your back,<em> she mused to herself.

Johnny leaned over and whispered to Dixie. "He always snores like that when he sleeps on his back."

Joanne felt a prickle of resentment at Johnny voicing this detail about her husband. She bit her tongue, reminding herself that Roy sometimes 'shared a room' with five other men who would also be privy to his sleeping habits. It would be natural for them to tease each other over their nocturnal idiosyncrasies. She reached out and tucked some of the stray hair at the side of Roy's head behind his ear. She noticed the swelling of the outer part of his ear as she tenderly traced it with her the tip of her finger. This was one trick she often used the nights he spent at home to get him to roll over on his side to stop snoring.

Roy felt something familiar brushing against the edge of his ear. He recognized the familiar action and something inaudible as he turned his head and cracked an eye open.

"Hmmm…missed you."

"Missed you too."

Dixie nudged Johnny. "Come on, you can wait in the lounge downstairs for Dwyer to arrive with your Rover."

"Yeah, I kinda think they need some time alone," Johnny answered as he followed her out of the room.

Joanne stared at the gleaming white cast that coated his left arm and waited until she heard the click of the door closing. "You had me pretty worried."

"I'm sorry I put you through all that." Roy let out a grunt as he moved over towards the rail on the left side of the bed to give her more room to sit.

"Dammit Roy, why are you pulling away from me? I didn't mean…" Joanne felt the words sticking in her throat.

"Jo…" Roy fumbled a bit as he sat up and held out his hand to her. "I wanted to give you more room to sit."

She stared at his hand noticing the ragged and torn nails, scraped knuckles, and the I.V. taped to it. She gingerly reached out her hand and let him grab onto it. Tremors started to run through her body as she felt a bandage on his palm.

"Jo," he whispered softly.

Joanne looked up at him and he saw the flood of tears filling her eyes. He knew what she needed without her saying a word to him. She had kept her emotions tightly sealed inside her for the last several days, only allowing a little to seep out here and there to prevent the pressure from blowing the lid off of them. He gave her the 'okay' she needed to release them.

"Jo, you're not gonna hurt my shoulder by using it." He required the warmth of her next to him.

She lowered her head onto his shoulder and felt his arm wrap around her. "The worst time was at night…I was so scared."

He could feel a slight shudder from her as she finally allowed herself the luxury of crying. "Me too. I was afraid I'd never see you or the kids, be there for you…"

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply, letting its scent reassure him this moment wasn't a figment of his imagination. He let his hand toy with the soft strands of her hair. As her sobs eventually turned to sniffles and several moments later her body had stopped trembling, she finally relaxed against him. He heard a few sniffs before wrapping her arm around his waist.

Roy gently rubbed her shoulder. "Hmmmm, I wanna grow old and silly with you."

"Sounds like a good plan to me. I'll be telling Dr. Early about that rattling sound in your chest." Joanne gave his side a slight squeeze as she let out a small yawn and closed her eyes.

There was no need for either to vocalize for what they were communicating to each other at the moment. Roy had a good idea of the fears that had been running through Joanne's mind over the last several days. The reassurances he gave her were spoken with a tender squeeze to her shoulder or stroking her hair from the side of her face. Her arm around his waist confirmed she'd always stand by him. The pattern of her breathing had changed and knowing she had drifted off into a slumber, he allowed the drowsiness to take over his body again and join her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Over The Edge**

**The Delirium Threemen**

**December 2011 ©**

**Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. The content of the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.**

**All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.**

**Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.**

* * *

><p><strong>The greatest good you can do for another is not just share your riches,<strong>

**but to reveal to him his own. -Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881)**

**Chapter 13**

* * *

><p>"No more than twenty minutes or if it feels feel numb." The nurse instructed Joanne on how to use the ice pack.<p>

"Thanks, Jan." Joanne smiled as she held the ice pack to her husband's swollen eye.

"If there's anything else, you need just ring the buzzer." Jan turned to leave the room.

"Just one thing. Can you make sure Dr. Early knows his chest sounds congested and he's got a cough?" Joanne requested.

"Jo, it's just a sum—" A round of coughing prevented Roy from finishing his sentence.

"I'll make sure to mention it to him," Jan assured Joanne.

Joanne placed the ice pack on Roy's mouth, stifling any protests from him as he stared daggers at her. She gave him a sweet innocent smile. "It's not gonna hurt to have Dr. Early check it out."

Roy managed to emit a huff of indignation at his wife with his eyes begging her like a mewling stray kitten to be taken home.

"You know Roy, I developed an immunity to that look a long time ago."

An impish smile spread across Joanne's face. "Keep it up and I'll pull some strings around here you'll have _THE_ meanest nurse at Rampart tending to you."

The words _you wouldn't dare_ was implied by the narrow-eyed glare Roy gave his wife.

Jan closed the door behind her and walked over to the Nurse's Station with the chart clutched in her hand. She sat down on a stool behind the counter and opened the chart. The nurse smoothed a stray strand of mousy-colored hair that had escaped from under her cap as she made some notations in the chart in front of her. The ends of her mouth curled in a slight smile as she recalled how the patient's wife threatened him with the redheaded menace of the fifth floor.

A shrill 'ding' from the elevator caused her to automatically put her pen down and close the folder in front of her. She was always cautious about leaving patient information where the wandering eyes of a visitor or a patient's family member could catch a glance at it. Hearing the footsteps approaching the station, she hugged the chart protectively against her chest before looking up.

"Hi there, Dr. Early." She smiled broadly at him.

"Hi Jan." Dr. Early greeted her as he leaned against the counter. "Do you have the chart on Mr. DeSoto handy?"

"I just left his room. I have a fresh set of vitals on him." Jan unfolded her arms and handed Dr. Early the chart. "Looks like he's running a low-grade fever and his wife is concerned about the rattling sound in his chest. He was trying to convince his wife it is just a summer cold. She wasn't buying it."

Dr. Early scanned the open chart in front of him with his glasses perched at the end of his nose. "His chest X-ray isn't buying it either. I was just looking at it downstairs and it showed some congestion."

He finished scribbling a note in the chart and looked up at Jan. "I want to start him on 1 gm of Rocephin every 24 hours, 3 doses to start. I also want you to get a sputum sample to the lab."

"Sure thing." Jan answered.

"Is Mr. DeSoto's wife still around?"

Jan nodded as she put the chart away behind the Nurse's Station.

"Nurse McCall in Emergency is arranging for a cardiac check-up with a patient of Dr. Markovic's. If he calls here, I'll just be in Mr. DeSoto's room."

* * *

><p>Hank could have sworn one of his men had almost nailed the back of his heel when they had all dashed into his office after seeing the note scrawled on the board. He flipped through the Rolodex on his desk until he found a direct number for Rampart Hospital's Emergency Department and dialed the number on the rotary phone. He waited impatiently through two and a half rings before someone picked up the line.<p>

"Hello, this is Captain Stanley from Station 51. One of my crew members left me a message to call the ER, a Mr. John Gage."

"That's okay, is Nurse Dixie McCall around? She'll know who I'm looking for. Yeah, I'd like to hold."

"Shhhhhhhhhhh," Captain Stanley hissed at his men.

The engine crew stood in solemn silence around him. It didn't take Captain Stanley long to start drumming his lanky fingers on the wooden desktop as he waited on the phone. Chet started to shift his weight from one leg to the other. Marco threw his fellow lineman a stern look which triggered Chet to start tapping his foot impatiently.

Chet's fidgeting prompted Marco to mutter, "Knock it off."

The annoyed whispers between the three men started to grow louder. Hank cleared his throat loudly as his thick eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. He heard a click on the other end of the line as someone finally picked it up.

"Hey guys, simmer down. I can't hear Gage over all the ruckus," Captain Stanley uttered as he held his hand over the receiver of the phone.

"Hey John… yeah, we just got your message. How's DeSoto doing?"

Captain Stanley nodded his head and added an 'ah-ha' periodically as he listened to the phone. "Yeah, we caught some of that on the TV earlier. They're not releasing any details right now."

"Didn't I try to tell you guys that was Dwyer's truck on the news?" Chet blurted out.

"Shush," Mike hissed at him.

"Okay…John, tell Roy we're glad to hear he's going to be all right and we'll probably pop in to see him tomorrow morning right after shift ends."

"Sure, I can't see a problem with them parking it out back for a few hours. Heck, they can leave it in here overnight if they want to."

"_Really?_ I'm sure someone will make inquiries about Bellingham's black eye."

Chet leaned towards his Captain, eyes wide and pleading for an explanation. Marco grabbed his elbow and pulled him back, giving him a warning glare. Mike stood with his arms crossed and tapping his foot. Captain Stanley scanned the faces of his men and scowled at them warningly.

"Talk to you later, John. Thanks for filling me on everything." Captain Stanley sat up straight in his chair as the conversation drew to a close. "Yep… we'll probably pop by sometime in the morning after shift unless we have a busy night. Goodbye John, we'll catch up with you later."

Captain Stanley hung up the phone and swiveled his chair around so he was facing his three crewmen who stood mutely waiting for him to start talking. His mouth formed a grim straight line as he crossed his arms and glared at them

"How come when I'm on the phone you guys start carrying on? You're worse than my kids."

Chet's mouth formed into a frown which caused made his mustache to droop. "We only want to know the scoop. Roy's alright isn't he?"

Hank looked at the faces filled with concern in front of him. Could he blame them for being anxious after the uncertainty of the last several days? It was hard enough for all of them to leave the search in the hands of others and return to work, especially when the outcome felt grimmer with each passing day. The expression on his face softened and the corners of his lips formed into a broad smile.

"Roy's gonna be okay. A little worse for wear, but according to Johnny none of Roy's injuries are serious. Might be a several weeks before he's back to work."

Chet's mustache twitched upright. "Details Cap, details. What happened, where did they find him, how did they find him?"

"Johnny didn't give me all the particulars, but his truck went over a steep embankment and crashed at the bottom of a ravine." Captain Stanley lifted his gangly frame from the chair and pushed it towards the desk as he stood up. "How about we go to the kitchen and I'll tell ya' what I know over coffee?"

* * *

><p>Jim held Harriett's hand tightly as they followed Charlie Dwyer and Dom Barberi though the sea of people and medical equipment milling about in the Emergency Room hallways. Dwyer finally stopped and opened the door to a room labeled Staff Lounge.<p>

"We-hell-LL, hey there," Johnny greeted the quartet as they walked into the lounge.

"Have a seat and grab a cup of coffee." Johnny got up and pulled out a chair for Harriett and motioned for Jim to have a seat.

"How's Roy doing?" Harriett asked anxiously as she sat down.

Johnny leaned back in his chair. "Looks like he'll be locked up here in Rampart Penitentiary for a few days…"

"Johnny." Dixie threw him a sharp look before smiling pointedly at him. "I think Roy's parents _really_ would like to see for themselves that he's okay."

"But Dix, you made me wait here so Joanne…"

"Johnny… I'm sure Joanne and Roy are waiting for them to arrive any moment." Dixie's tone was more forceful as she spoke through a frozen smile. "Why don't we take them up to see Roy?"

Johnny smiled sheepishly as he got up from his chair and held out his arm to escort Harriett. "Shall we?"

Dwyer tapped Johnny on the shoulder as he guided Harriett to the door. "Uh, hold up there, pal. I need the keys back to my truck. Your Rover is parked at the far end of the Emergency lot."

"Oh… yeah… right," Johnny slid his hand into his front pocket and fished around for Dwyer's keys. "Here ya' go. I guess I'm a little more courteous than you. I parked your truck at the end of the first aisle, which is a lot closer to the hospital."

"Hey… wait up," Johnny trotted after Dixie as she led Roy's parents to the elevator.

Roy's parents and Dixie continued towards the elevator. They had just joined several others milling around in front of the elevator when the door opened. They waited for the passengers to exit before boarding it. Johnny had finally caught up to them as the elevator door began to close. Dixie pushed back on the door with her hand to keep it open.

"A herd of turtles can cross a finish line faster than you can get on an elevator, Johnny," Dixie teased Johnny as he joined them.

"Awww, come on Dix, I got held up by Dwyer. 'Sides you know my speed is always in high gear." Johnny gave Dixie a huge grin and nodded politely to the other passengers.

"Oh brother!" Dixie rolled her eyes. "Maybe we should slow this conversation down before the topic drifts into what a fast operator you are around here in front of Roy's parents."

"You want to hear about slow-mo, Dix?" Johnny chuckled. "You should see how long it takes Chet to putting on his SCUBA gear during a drill."

"But does he dawdle around at a real fire?" Dixie inquired as she pushed the button for the fifth floor.

"Now, that's where it gets weird." Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. "He sure has a lot more hustle in him at a fire."

"Maybe he gets nervous because he feels like he's under pressure when he's being timed," Dixie rationalized.

"Then explain how he convinced me that he'd make a great pitcher by throwing a half-eaten apple into a garbage can spot-on? Whatever I handed to him, he'd throw it dead center into the can." Johnny made a slight throwing motion with his right hand. "I even volunteered _my own_ personal time to coach him. He looked like a promising replacement for Dwyer and what does he do?"

Dixie let out a soft sigh to brace herself. She already knew verbatim what Johnny was going to say next. She had heard both the Johnny and the Roy version of this story and had a hunch Roy's was closer to the truth.

"He blows it. When it came to the real game he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. Oh… it gets better," Johnny splayed his hand across his chest. "We get creamed because he caved under pressure and he has the nerve to blame it on my coaching. How's that for gratitude?"

"Well Johnny, sometimes it's the stress to perform that causes people to freeze up. I heard Chet didn't know a thing about baseball and there was the burden of a bet riding on his skills as a pitcher which only magnified his situation. It's no wonder he choked up."

"Seriously Dix? Chet's excuse is he doesn't like it when people expect too much from him. Not that anybody expects much out of him to begin with." Johnny cocked an eyebrow downward. "You do realize that being a firefighter is a high pressure job with heavy expectations. He certainly has no problems towing the line while facing a raging inferno."

"Sounds like it's a situational response with Chet." Dixie gave Johnny an angelic smile as she looked up at him. "It happens to people all the time. I happen to recall an extremely competent paramedic featured in the "Men in Action" series on the local news a few years ago who ended up getting nervous and tongue-tied on television."

"I seem to recall things a little differently." Johnny denied. "It was obvious the one paramedic kept butting in before the other one had a chance to answer any questions. He hijacked the entire interview."

"Well, we must be thinking about two different shows," Dixie dryly drolled. "I must have you confused with another chatty paramedic who couldn't find his voice when confronted by a big, bad camera."

Johnny looked down at his feet. "Okay, you've made your point… B'sides everyone gets a tad nervous appearing' on television."

"Like I said, certain situations can cause get people all befuddled. I've seen it with student nurses who know their stuff, but they get so worked up they either go blank during a written exam or become all thumbs during their clinical." Dixie nudged him slightly with her elbow. "It's natural for them to have some amount of anxiety when they're first exposed to a hospital environment, but sometimes it's bad enough to cause them to flail around like a fish outta water. Often it takes a situation where they don't have time to think about their fears or insecurities in order for their instincts automatically kick in. They are forced to rely on their own intuition, knowledge, and skills to see they are capable of doing the job."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Johnny conceded, "But at least none of them cost everyone on A-Shift nine bucks a-piece."

Jim and Harriett couldn't help but smile as they listened to the exchange between the nurse and their son's friend. Johnny's incessant chattering was amusing the other passengers as the elevator made its slow journey upwards. He wrapped an arm around Harriett's waist and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Over the last several days, Jim saw firsthand the reason his son referred to Johnny as more than a partner, but a friend as well. His normally mercurial quirkiness had been replaced with a focused maturity. Throughout their ordeal, Johnny provided a steadfast support for Joanne that was also extended to him and Harriett as well. He was grateful to all of Roy's good friends and fellow firefighters pitching in and helping to ease the emotional strain for his family. He was a bit more beholden to John Gage, who had managed to provide the calm eye in Joanne's hurricane of swirling emotions.

The excitement and relief of finding Roy alive, transformed John Gage into a babbling brook of verbiage, restoring a sense of normalcy which had been absent in everyone's life for almost a week. A smile started to tease the corners of Jim's mouth as he remembered the time Roy described Johnny as the crabgrass in his lawn of life. It was an accurate description of John Gage in many ways. It could also be argued Roy returned the favor by being the crabgrass in John's lawn of life. No matter how much they drove each other to the brink of insanity; there was no fence preventing either man from giving up their place in the other's patch of grass. They took turns splashing the cold water of reality on one another by pointing out accountabilities or offering unwelcome advice or criticism. Neither one would dare miss an opportunity to bring up a past misfortune about the other for a chance to prove a point or to provide comedic fodder for those around them. They were both honest enough not to be worried about choosing their words carefully in an effort to spare an unpleasant truth. They knew when to say the right words or commit an act that demonstrated to the other that matter what, they'd always have the other's best interests at heart. Their friendship was much like crabgrass; no matter how much you keep pulling it out, as it doggedly persistent in keeping its presence in one's lawn.

Jim looked at the number for the floor number that lit up above the elevator door. One more floor to go, he thought as he smiled reassuringly to his wife.

* * *

><p>"I'll probably keep you as my lab rat… err… I mean guest for the next several days." Dr. Early chuckled as he leaned closer to his patient and slipped the earpieces of the stethoscope into his ears as he slid his hand with the chest piece down the front of the patient's gown. "The congestion doesn't sound any worse than when you were brought in. I've ordered a broad-spectrum antibiotic for him, Joanne."<p>

Joanne returned a slight smile of gratitude towards the doctor as she gave her husband's hand a squeeze.

"I'll arrange for a physiotherapist to pop in tomorrow. You're not to put ANY weight on your foot for the next six weeks and with your broken wrist we may have to see about gettin' you a gutter frame walker to get you mobile. Crutches are out of the question since you've just suffered from a dislocated shoulder. I've scheduled a CT scan first thing tomorrow morning for you to check for any soft tissue damage or bony deformities. I'm still amazed that you managed to pop it back in place by yourself."

"I sorta passed out after I put it back in place," Roy answered sheepishly.

"I've gotta give you credit, Roy. You did a good job self-administering treatment to yourself. Using cactus pulp on that leg wound was resourceful; probably helped ward off infection too," Dr. Early commended him.

The door to the room opened and Dixie held it open as Roy's parents and Johnny entered the room and announced. "I brought more visitors."

"Let's try not to overwhelm the patient," Dr. Early quipped, giving Johnny a pointed look.

It didn't go unnoticed to Joanne how Harriett stood near the foot of the bed and gazed towards her son. Guilt started to course through her veins as she realized her mother-in-law was waiting for an 'okay' signal for her to step closer to her son. Joanne imagined that she'd have a hard time restraining herself if it was one of her children in the hospital, no matter if they were full-grown or not. She slid off the side of the bed and walked towards the older woman and gave her a quick embrace before guiding her to her son's side. "He's going to be fine." Joanne reassured Harriett in a quiet whisper.

Harriett brushed Roy's hair to the side as she sat beside her son on the bed. Leaning forward, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and softly crooned, "My poor Bugaloo, you had me really scared over the last several days."

Jim smiled as he stood behind Harriett and said in a gruffer tone, "What your Mom's trying to say is that's quite a fat lip and swollen eye you got there, son. You look like you traded a few punches with the schoolyard bully."

"Roy tried to enlist the help of a swarm of wasps to airlift him outta the ravine. Obviously, it failed. The swelling should be gone within 24 hours or so," Dr. Early joked.

Joanne instinctively knew it was best to give her husband some privacy with his parents before Johnny or anyone else could secure any more embarrassment bombs from his parents to lob Roy's way in the future. She could already hear the playful teasing his partner most likely was going to give Roy over the motherly nickname Harriett had called him. She quickly thought of a discrete way to clear the room. She made her way over to Johnny, whose stomach took that moment to express its displeasure over having not eaten since morning. "How about you come to the gift shop with me so I can pick up some toiletries for Roy and afterwards we can go to the cafeteria to take care of the snarling beast in your stomach?"

"Sounds good to me," Johnny answered.

"I'll be back soon," Joanne called out to Roy as she and Johnny exited the room.

Dr. Early placed a hand on Jim's shoulder to get his attention and spoke in a low voice. "Your cardiologist is making rounds rights now, I've arranged for him to see you while you're here. Just check with the nursing station on this floor before you leave and they'll let you know where to go to have Dr. Markovic touch base with you."

"Thanks for everything." Jim gave Dr. Early a hearty handshake before offering the same to Dixie. "That goes for both of you."

"Well, some of us have to get back to work." Dixie said as she started to guide Dr. Early towards the door.

"No rest for the wicked. I'll check in on you later, Roy," Dr. Early laughed as he followed Dixie.

"We were all so worried sick about you, honey." Harriett started to fuss over Roy. "You wouldn't believe all the people who came to help search for you."

Roy felt the guilt rushing through his veins. The last thing he wanted was for his parents worrying themselves sick over him or his father working himself up into another heart attack. "Is something going on with Dad's heart? Why did Dr. Early arrange for him to see his cardiologist?"

Harriett's answered him with a hushed tone. "Everything is fine, Roy. Your father wouldn't go back to the city for his doctor's appointment until you were found."

"How come you skipped your doctor's appointment?" Distress filled Roy's voice.

"I couldn't chance leaving your mother or wife while you were missing." Jim answered.

"But you promised Mom and _ME._ you were going to take better care of yourself," Roy voice conveyed his disappointment with his father.

"Now, you hold up there, son. I've kept that promise," Jim defended himself. "Dr. Early checked me over while he was up there with Nurse McCall dropping off stuff for the volunteers."

"Because of the amount of stress I must have put you and everyone else under is precisely why you shoulda kept that appointment," Roy said in frustration.

"Roy," Jim waited until his son's eyes met his. "I would have gotten more worried and anxious over you had I left. Doncha get it?"

"I'm sorry, Mom… Dad." Roy felt ashamed for coming across as upset with his father. "I just wish I coulda prevented you two from having to go through all that."

"You know honey, when you were a boy, I wanted to shelter you from anything that would cause you hurt or pain. But the fact was, I knew I couldn't. The only thing I… or your father could do was to help prepare you to deal with those things or help you ride through the rough patches." Harriett sensed what was truly bothering her son. "What's really going on, Roy? Since your father had his heart attack, you've started distancing yourself from both of us."

"I just don't want Dad to end up like…like…Norman." Roy's voice rustled softly like dried leaves scurrying in circles in a concrete corner from a strong breeze.

Jim was puzzled for a few moments before it dawned on him why a wedge had developed between them for the last while. "Son, is that why you've been shuttin' me out for months? You're afraid I'm gonna end up like Jo's dad?"

"I didn't want to load you with my problems, especially when you don't need any extra strains on your health," Roy mumbled as he cast his gaze downwards; at least he didn't think he had been.

Harriett cupped the side of her son's face in her hand. "Bugaloo, it upsets us more when we feel like you're keeping things from us."

It had never occurred to Roy that trying to filter out his problems from his conversations with his parents, especially his father, was actually having the opposite effect. _How could I be so stupid?_ he thought, _I always think things are worse when something is being held back from me_. "I never thought of it from that perspective."

"You remember that day we went fishing a month ago?" Jim asked.

Roy cringed as he remembered their verbal exchange from his mind's eye. "Yeah… it kinda felt uncomfortable… most of the talk was pretty bland from my side."

"I was ready to toss you off the pier. You were so aggravating." Jim added.

"Maybe we can make up for all that talk over the next six weeks or so." Roy offered meekly to his father.

"I'm gonna hold you to that." Jim grinned at his son. "You can start filling me in on what you've been up to the last several days tomorrow when I stop by."

"Perhaps we should go see Dr. Markovic now and let Roy rest." Harriett suggested as she looked at her wrist watch.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, dear." Jim agreed with her. "Besides, we need to meet up with Craig and Bob so aren't waiting around for us when they return the trailer."

"Craig and Bob?" Roy questioned him.

"You wouldn't believe how Craig just dove in and started organizing things and everyone to search for you."

"Really? I don't think either one of us would consider the other a friend… but…" Roy was a bit flabbergasted about Brice's participation before pondering it over for a moment. "He's the perfect person to organize something, be it a drug box or a search and rescue operation."

"It was amazing how supportive him and his buddy Bob were to all of us," Harriett added.

Jim beamed with pride at his son. "Even though you had us scared outta our wits, a part of me couldn't help but feel proud of you."

"Proud?" Roy was puzzled.

"Yes son, I am proud of you. I can't count the number of volunteers from the fire department who stopped by and personally gave us support. Often times, they'd mention something about how you made an impact on them…" Jim's voice started to warble and got gruffer. "They shared stuff with us… about you…"

"My favorites were from the young fellas who did their field training with you and Johnny. They would mention your patience, encouragement…" Harriett smiled lovingly at her son as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "They made us swell up with pride over being the parents blessed to call you _our son_."

Roy leaned forward in his bed and wrapped his uninjured arm around his Mom. He peered up at Jim. "Am I too old to ask my Dad for a hug?"

"No son, you'll never be too old to get a hug from me." Tears twinkled in the corner of Jim's eyes as he moved in closer to his wife and son to encompass them in his arms. "And you'll never be too old to be called Bugaloo by your mother."

* * *

><p>Eunice Johnson sat on her sofa watching the borrowed television set that Roland Gorvett had set up on her coffee table. Roland Gorvett had brought the smaller set over to save her the trouble of walking across the living room to turn off her larger television set until her foot healed. A year or two ago, she would have been indifferent to the fate of her son-in-law. Today, she had felt a sense of relief when Joanne had called her collect a little over an hour ago to let her know that Roy had been found and was going to be fine. She didn't press Joanne for any specifics figuring that her daughter was in a hurry to get back to her husband. Hoping the newscast just starting would provide her with some of those details, she leaned forward and adjusted the rabbit-ears on top of the TV. This only succeeded in increasing the diagonal lines and the speed of them running down the screen. She resisted the temptation to slap the side of the box and returned the antenna back to its original position.<p>

The plastic cover on the sofa squeaked as Eunice sat back and listened intently, gleaning only a few additional tidbits about the accident. Perhaps Joanne forgot to mention the other vehicle they found or didn't know about it, she thought to herself as she listened to the modulated smooth baritone voice of the news anchor.

"_The victim of the other crash is possibly Mrs. Sarah Loaring, who has been missing for almost three weeks. A spokesmen from the coroner's office stated that the body still needs to be properly identified."_

Eunice let out a quick breath as a recent color picture of Sarah Loaring was shown on the screen. She noticed the missing woman bore a strong physical resemblance to Joanne. However, Joanne's face had a softer contour and was more oval that the heart-shaped face on the screen. Even with a slight smile, her daughter's dimples appeared and when combined with small, slightly upturned nose gave her a type of spritely allure reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. The face on the screen had some common features with her daughter such as hair color, clear skin, the same arched eyebrows and soft small mouth. Eunice had to admit this woman could easily be mistaken for Joanne upon first glance as she listened to the details of her disappearance. She leaned forward and turned the knob of the set to the off position. It was then, when the screen faded to black that the non-physical similarities between her daughter and the missing woman started to sink in – both were mothers of two school aged children, had husbands, were well-thought of by family and friends.

She was about to get up and get ready for bed, but stopped when she spotted the two letters that lay on the plastic-covered cushion beside her. A tear slowly made its way through the side of her face and through the crevice of a wrinkle on her cheek. The two letters had come in the mail a couple of days ago. She opened the one letter up from her granddaughter and stared at the nascent innocence pictures the six-year-old had drawn her. Underneath an adult had written descriptions of what the pictures represented. Things were so simplistic between her and Joanne when she had been that age. Joanne didn't resist being dressed in little flocked dresses with puffy sleeves and with her little white and black saddle shoes until a few years later. She then opened the page containing the primitive cursive writing from her 8 ½ year-old grandson. This was about the age where Joanne began to question her about things and she wasn't necessarily always in agreement with the answers Eunice provided her. Chris's letter felt like it was written out of a sense of obligation more than a willingness on his part to share his summer camp adventures with her. Deep down, she knew she had herself to blame for that. She never asked her grandchildren about their activities and came across as stiff and indifferent to them.

She folded the two letters up neatly and made a silent vow to herself to make a more conscious effort to show all her grandchildren that she was interested in them. It pained her to admit that Gladys Gorvett had spent the better part of yesterday afternoon helping her write letters back to her grandchildren. It was the first time she had ever sent anything beyond a birthday card to them in the mail. It took her three attempts to write a response to Chris's letter. She had seen nothing wrong with informing Chris about the spelling mistake in his letter when she wrote her first response to him. Gladys had to point out to her that Chris would be reluctant to write another letter to her if she corrected him. Unless she was helping Chris with his homework it wasn't proper for her to correct any mistakes in the letter he had sent her. Her second draft of the letter was more improved, but it needed to be softened up or more 'grandmotherly' was how Gladys had put it. The two of them worked together on the third letter where Gladys pointed out any words that were not within an 8-year-old's vocabulary and made sure that the letter was not overly long. Her letter to Jennifer went a little easier. Gladys had suggested she draw some pictures to Jennifer and write words below the picture. Eunice felt embarrassed and ashamed when Gladys dashed over to her house to grab some crayons for drawing. Eunice never kept any toys or games around the house for her grandchildren to entertain themselves with.

Eunice grabbed the nearby crutches and used them to help her stand up. The plastic cover of the sofa let out a loud creaky sound as Eunice got up.

"Time to get rid of those gawdawful things," she muttered to herself as she maneuvered her way around the piece of living room furniture.

She learned firsthand that the slightest move caused the plastic to squeak and groan much to her annoyance. To top things off, the summer heat caused some excessive condensation on her person while sitting on the plastic. The calves of her uncasted leg felt slimy from being pressed against the covering.

She paused in front of the faux fireplace and stared at the picture of Joanne's family. She pointedly fixated her gaze on the face of her son-in-law. _Well Roy, you certainly weren't my vision of a suitable husband for Joanne. Truth be told, not many would have cut the mustard with me. It took me a long time to realize Joanne had to lay the stones for her own path in life and not follow the ones I tried to lay out for her. I did some deplorable things to try and make her see what a mistake you were. The only thing I succeeded in doing was building walls between us. _Eunice narrowed her eyes at Roy's image. _Gladys is right, I may never grow to like you, but I do have to treat you properly for the sake of Joanne and my grandchildren._

Eunice finally looked away from the picture and hobbled over to the light switch. After being forced to spend time sitting for hours on her own sofa while her foot healed, getting rid of the furniture covers was now a top priority for Eunice. She clicked the light off and stared into the darkened living room. _Perhaps when Joanne's down with the children, I'll take them shopping to pick out some toys they can keep here to play with._

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong>

**Crabgrass in the lawn of life is a take on this quote: **

"**Big sisters are the crabgrass in the lawn of life." Charles M. Schulz (1922-2000)**


End file.
